


going fast, coming soon, we made love in the afternoon (found a flat, after that, we got married)

by lovelyflowersinherhair



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, minor Jane Asher/Paul McCartney
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 66,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyflowersinherhair/pseuds/lovelyflowersinherhair
Summary: "Where have you been? We had to do Revolution 9 without you.""I ran off to New York and got married."
Relationships: George Harrison & John Lennon & Paul McCartney & Ringo Starr, Heather Louise McCartney & Linda McCartney, John Lennon & Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Yoko Ono, Linda McCartney/Paul McCartney, Paul McCartney & Heather Louise McCartney, Paul McCartney & Ringo Starr
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is a rumor going around that Linda thought that the Dirty Weekend had gotten her pregnant, and that Paul hadn't been all that upset about the possibility. Obviously this didn't happen in reality, but I thought that the concept would be interesting to explore in a fan fiction. Some details of the events surrounding this story have been embellished and/or changed to suit the fictional narrative. Please make note of the fact that this story will include aspects of the Beatles' history that some people may consider unsavory. I apologize in advance if this story offends you. This story contains beliefs, opinions, and actions that were typical and acceptable in the time period in which it is set.

“I heard you on the telly,” Jane called out to him, her tone rather flat, and Paul wondered if he should be concerned about the unusually subdued greeting, but he decided to brush off his feelings of trepidation. Jane was probably in a bad mood for reasons that had nothing to do with him, he rationalised. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told her, and he shoved his hands into his pockets as he entered the house, beyond confused about why he was the problem. “I did the interview and then went to the studio,” he added. “We finished up there and then I came home, what more do you want to know?” 

“I want to know why you told the person interviewing you that you had hopes of settling down and starting to raise a family by the start of the new decade,” she said in a rather clipped tone, just in time for him to locate her in the kitchen. “Who would you be having those children with, Paul?” 

“Uh, well, you of course,” he said. “We’re getting married, after all.” 

“I told you that I didn’t want to become your broodmare just because you put a ring on my finger,” she hissed, and Paul swore he saw a flash of anger in her eyes. “Have you lost your mind? Why would I want to give up my career to start a family because that’s what you want?” 

“Of course, it’s what I want,” Paul said softly. “Jane, I thought that you knew that. Why would this be a surprise to you? I told you, I’m ready to settle down with you and start a family, y’know that that’s what I want. Why do you think I asked you to marry me?”

He heard her draw in a sharp breath. “I’m not giving up my career to hang around the farm barefoot and pregnant, Paul. I don’t care if it’s what you want. It’s not what I want, and you know that. How many times do I have to tell you—”

“You don’t need to work,” Paul said. “I don’t want you carrying ‘round going on theatre tours abroad when we’ve started having our family. I don’t want that life for my kids, Jane, I’ve seen what that does to a child, and I won’t have it be that way for me. Not for me or for my kids.” 

Paul didn’t think that what he wanted was so unreasonable, but it was clear that Jane seemed to, even though he knew perfectly well that he could provide for the both of them (and any children that they might have had) on a single album alone. She wouldn’t have had to work, and he didn’t understand why she’d even want to. Wasn’t the point of settling down and making a life together that she’d be able to stop working and stay at home? He didn’t see what the big deal was. 

Cyn and Mo did, after all. You didn’t see them heading off for a day of work. 

“I can’t do this,” she said. “If that’s what you want, Paul, then, that’s fine, and I won’t stop you from getting it. It’s just not going to be with me.” 

Paul gaped at her. “What?” 

“You heard me,” she said. “I’m not even 22. Why would I want to give up something that I love?” She shook her head. “Look, Paul. I want you to be happy. I just don’t want to be miserable in order for you to be happy. So, that’s settled, then,” Jane said to Paul, her tone not entirely unkind. “You know what we have to do, don’t you?” 

“What are you talking about?” Paul asked her. “I’ve told you what we’re going to do.” 

“No,” she corrected him. “You’ve told me what you want us to do, and that’s not what I want to be doing, Paul! I don’t want to abandon my career to have child after child, and sit at home waiting on you hand and foot, and you know that. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to be reliant on you?” 

“Oh, come off it, Jane,” he told her, and he ran his hand through his hair. “You act like it’s some surprise to you that I reckoned that we’d settle down and have a family together. What do you think I asked you to marry me for?” 

“I know that’s what you wanted!” She exclaimed. “I didn’t think that you meant right away. What, was I supposed to know you’d want to impregnate me on our wedding night? I’m not some girl from Liverpool, Paul. I can’t pretend to be.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with being a girl from Liverpool—”

“I never said there was! I just said that I can’t be that type of person, and I can’t keep leading you on. I thought that I’d be able to get past it, but I can’t. Paul. Don’t you think that I’ve tried to picture myself doing what you’ve wanted? I’m sorry.” 

Paul drew in a deep breath, and he let it out slowly. “I just wish that you had said something from the start, Jane, y’know, when I asked you to marry me? I wouldn’t have forced things on you if I had known that you really didn’t want them. I do want them, though.” He scrubbed his hand across his face. “I want to be a dad; I want to have a wife waiting for me when I come home from a hard day’s work. If that’s not what you want, well, maybe you’re right. Maybe we ought to call time on things.” He shook his head. “I never meant to upset you; you know.” 

She gave him a sad smile. “Yeah, Paul, I know that you didn’t. I think that we just want different things, and I think that we’ve wanted those things for a while. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“If that’s what you want,” he muttered. 

“I just think that it’s what’s for the best,” she said. “I mean, Paul, you’re going to find someone who wants the same thing that you want. I know you are. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us for me to pretend that I’m that person anymore.” 

“What about on Christmas?” Paul demanded. “Why didn’t you say anything to me when I proposed?” 

“I didn’t want to--”   
  
“To what, Jane? String me on for months? Make me feel like we were on the same page? I would have let you go if you had just said something, instead you let me propose to you and you agreed to marry me, and -- you know what? Fine. You don’t want to be with me? That’s fine.” 

“What?”

“Well, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” Paul asked her. “You’ve made that perfectly clear to me. So, go on. I’ll clear out so you can pack your things. I’ll even fetch Neil so you don’t have to hire a courier.” 

“Where are you going?” 

Paul shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “I’ll see you ‘round the clubs.” 

“Paul--”

“What do you want me to say, Jane? You’ve made your choice. I don’t have to stand here watching you pack up our life together.”

“I just don’t want you to do anything stupid--”

“Like what?” Paul demanded. “Don’t tell me. You don’t want me going round to John’s and popping tabs of acid? What does it matter to you?” He lit up a cigarette and stuck in his mouth. “I’m going to drop by me father’s, if that suits you. Don’t worry. I won’t do anything daft. He rang me up and said that Ruth’s been wanting to see me, so, you know, I reckon that I’ll surprise her with a visit.” 

Paul shouldered his guitar and headed in the direction of the front door, beyond annoyed by the entire situation. Had Jane been planning on stringing him along about having children after they’d gotten married? He’d like to assume that the answer was going to be no, but the truth was that he wasn’t entirely certain of that, since she’d managed to string him along from Christmas until now, and he’d been nary the wiser. He scowled. He didn’t think that wanting to be a father and having a wife to come home to was that unreasonable, but apparently Jane had. 

He hadn’t actually been planning on going to visit his father, but it wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, and Ruth had been asking to see him, so what was the harm of driving to Chesire with Martha (who had dutifully followed him out of the house, and into his car) and spending the night? He knew that his father wouldn’t mind. His dad always complained about how little he visited. 

Paul really didn’t enjoy spending much time with his stepmother. He had gotten wind of Jim remarrying second-handedly after the marriage had happened, and to be honest, he was still somewhat annoyed that his father’s remarriage hadn’t been worthy of him even receiving a telegram, but he did his best not to let his aggravation show around his father, or around his supposed sister. What did he care what his dad did? 

If marrying Angie had made him happy, well, so be it. 

That didn’t mean Paul particularly enjoyed her attempts at mothering him. He’d had a mother, and he wasn’t keen on having her replaced by his dad’s new wife. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to be cruel to Ruth. She was just a kid, after all, and she didn’t have anything to do with how her mother made him feel. He couldn’t begrudge her having been adopted by his father. Paul at least had the capability to remember his mother. He doubted that Ruth would be able to do the same for her dad. 

He didn’t particularly want to stay in his house while Jane packed up her earthly belongings and walked out of his life. He was too annoyed by what had happened. Hadn’t he been perfectly clear about what he wanted? He’d been certain that he had been, but he supposed that in the end it didn’t matter. They were through, and with that, went Paul’s goals of being engaged to be married, and having a family. What was he meant to do? Suggest that they give it a go the next time he spoke to Maggie? He’d be laughed out of her flat, and he knew it. 

“I don’t understand why she didn’t just say no when I asked her to marry me,” he said out loud, though Martha was unable to give him a proper response. She was a dog, after all. “I would have understood, and we wouldn’t have wasted all this time on it.” He shook his head, and he lit another cigarette. 

Martha shoved her muzzle against the leg of his trousers. He ran an absentminded hand through her fur. 

“If I had known that Jane was going to do this,” Paul said, well aware that he was discussing things with a dog, and not with a human being. “I would have arranged for Linda to meet me in LA.” He scowled. “I don’t want to go deal with the bloody record company as it is y’know, and now to know that I don’t have anyone to even come home to…” He trailed off. “Yeah, come home to. What bollocks. Who am I kidding, Martha? The only face who’s there to greet me when I come back from holiday is yours.” 

Still, there was some merit to giving Linda a ring when he arrived at his father’s, and he decided that he ought to do it, even though John had made his opinion on her clear. John had been annoying him, anyways. He’d been meant to go to LA with him, and he had made some barmy excuse as to  _ why _ he was going to be skipping the trip, citing some train of Eastern mysticism that Paul wasn’t sure really existed. 

If John had been accompanying him to the States, he might have thought twice about ringing Linda and inviting her out, only because he didn’t want to subject someone that he both considered a friend and rather fancied to John’s erroneous aspersions about her character, not because he didn’t want to see her again. 

In truth, Paul wanted to see Linda a great deal. 

He cherished the letters and postcards that she’d send him, and he’d stored them in his glove compartment, not wanting Jane to happen upon them and ask him questions. It wasn’t like they’d done anything since Paul’d gotten engaged to her -- it drove him daft, but Linda insisted that it wouldn’t have been proper, since he was engaged to be married, which he’d supposed had some merit. 

Now, though, he wasn’t. 

“What do you think, Martha?” Paul asked. “Should I give it a go with Linda?” 

Martha glanced over at him, and let out a content sigh. She wasn’t much in the art of the conversation, but he decided to accept her answer as one of agreement. 

“Right, then,” he said. “I’ll give her a ring when I get to Dad’s.” 

* * *

“Paul, what are you doing here?” Paul’s father asked him as he stood in the entranceway to the house, and it was then that Paul remembered that he had neglected to inform him that he had decided to come. “Is everything all right?” 

“I thought that I’d stop by and spend a couple of days here,” Paul said, and he shrugged his shoulders. “I have to go to America to meet with Capitol, y’know, and I promised Ruth that I’d stop by and see her before I left. I meant to come by sooner, but we’ve started working on a new record, and I haven’t been able to get away.” He shook his head. “Do you reckon that you’d be able to watch Martha while I’m on business?” 

“Of course we can watch her,” he said. “What about Jane? Is she out of town again?” 

Paul barely resisted rolling his eyes. “What about Jane? I don’t know what she’s doing. We’ve ended it.” 

“What?” His dad asked, sounding rather confused. “What are you talking about? Ruth said she saw you on the telly.” 

“Yeah, well, so did Jane,” he spat. “It appears that she decided that we wanted different things, and we decided to go our separate ways.” 

“I’m sorry--” 

“What’s there to be sorry about, Dad? She didn’t agree with any of the things that I wanted,” he told him. “I don’t want a wife who wants to go around in theatre troupes, okay? If that makes me so bloody awful, I guess it does.” He shook his head. “Look, I have to make a telephone call, okay? I’ll just be a moment. You can tell Ruth and Angie I’m here.” 

“They’ve gone down to the shops,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll be home soon.” 

Paul didn’t actually know what time of day it was, but he accepted his father’s explanation for Ruth and Angie’s absence without a whit of complaint, as he headed in the direction of the kitchen. The telephone that he had insisted his father install was located in the kitchen, and since Paul had the bill sent to him, he felt entirely entitled to use it to dial out internationally. 

He perched himself on a kitchen chair while he waited for someone to answer the telephone. 

Paul hated to admit it, but he was nervous. He prided himself on not feeling nervous when it came to women, but there was something different about Linda. He didn’t feel the sense of obligation that he’d felt lately with Jane when they spoke, or when he wrote to her. 

“Hello?” Linda said into the phone, and Paul visibly brightened. 

“Hey, Lin,” he said softly, trying to ignore the fact that his palms were starting to sweat due to his nerves. “It’s me, Paul. Have I caught you at a bad time?” 

“No,” she said, after a moment. “I just wasn’t expecting to hear from you, that’s all.” 

“You can say no,” he said. “But I was wondering if you wanted to fly out to LA with me. I have to go to Capitol for some meetings, and John’s fobbed it off on me.” 

“What about your fiancee?” Linda asked, and he swore that he detected a hint of bitterness. “I won’t be some dirty secret, Paul.” 

“We’ve ended it,” he forced himself to admit. “She doesn’t want what I want, and we decided that that meant it was best for us to part ways.” He lit a cigarette with his free hand, and he took a drag. “It appears that she thought I was having a laugh when I mentioned that I was ready for us to settle down, be a real proper family. Or maybe I misunderstood,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t really know.” He paused. “I understand if you can’t, y’know, I know it’s short notice, and you’ve got Heather…” 

Paul had never met Heather, but he knew of the little girl’s existence, and he would never want to make Linda feel that she was choosing him over her own daughter. 

“Heather is going to spend the weekend with her grandfather,” Linda told him. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t agree to another couple of days. I’ll just tell them that I’m working.” 

“Are you sure?” Paul asked her, as he heard the front door swing open, and the sounds of his father talking to Ruth and Angie. Linda answered in the affirmative. “Well, you know, I’d like that,” he said. “I’ll even bring you ‘round Capitol, if you want.” 

Ruth bounded into the kitchen and up to his chair, practically jumping onto his lap. “What are you doing here?” She asked him. 

“Just a second, Ruth,” he said to her. “I’m on the telephone.”

“Who’s that?” Linda asked him, her tone curious. “Don’t tell me you’ve managed to find yourself a second suitor?” 

“No, she’s me sister,” Paul told her. He didn’t normally tell people that Ruth was his sister, because he really didn’t consider her that, but Ruth  _ did _ consider him to be her brother, and she was only a kid. “Me dad got remarried a few years back, he adopted me stepmum’s child. So, she’s me sister. Aren’t you, Ruth?” 

“Who are you talking to?” 

“One of me mates,” he said. “We’re making plans to see each other when I go to America.” He returned his attention to Linda. “I really ought to go,” he said. “I promised Ruth that I’d spend some time with her before I go to Los Angeles. I’ll switch John’s ticket over to you, if that suits you?” 

“That would be fine,” she said. “I should be going, too. Heather’s going to want lunch soon.” 

“Yeah, you take care of Heather,” he told her. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes, see you soon,” she said. “Bye, Paul.” 

“Bye, Lin,” he said, and he waited until the line disengaged to return the phone to its cradle. “Hey, Ruth.” 

“Dad said that you’re spending the night,” she said in response. “Are you really?” 

“Yeah,” he told her. “A couple of nights, and then I have to fly to LA. I promised that I’d come visit you, didn’t I?” 

Ruth nodded. “But you say that all the time,” she said. “I didn’t know if you really meant it.” 

“I, uh, I’m sorry, Ruth.” Paul scrubbed his face with his hand. “I know that I don’t come by as often as you want me to, but you understand that I’m working a lot, yeah? It’s not really an excuse, but…” He trailed off. He honestly hadn’t expected her to even care that he hadn’t come over. “You really want me to come round more?” 

“Mike does,” she said. “Mum said that you’re probably too busy with Jane.” 

“Right,” he said, and he forced himself to not recoil at Ruth even implying that Angie was his mother, because of course she’d call her mum, she  _ was _ her mum. “Well, I reckon that that won’t be a problem any longer. Jane and I have decided to call it quits.” He took a drag off his cigarette. “So that’s why I thought I’d surprise you with a visit. To tell all of you in person.” 

“But I  _ saw _ you on the telly,” Ruth insisted. “Earlier today! That was you, wasn’t it?” 

Paul sighed. “Yeah, that was me. Sort of silly of me to go on the telly saying those things, but I hadn’t known that we’d be broken up by supper time.” He sighed. “You liked seeing me on the telly?” 

She nodded. “You’re my brother. Duh.” 

“Well, see? Something good came out of it,” he settled on. “Maybe we could go out in the garden with Martha while your mum sorts out dinner?” 

Paul prided himself on being someone who could be considered good with children, and he knew that there was no need for him to pretend that he wasn’t capable of entertaining his own sister for the time it took his stepmum to cook dinner, even if he was partially doing it to avoid having to be in the kitchen while she made dinner. 

It wasn’t as if either Martha or Ruth would object.

“Okay,” she said, and he felt her press a kiss to his cheek. “I’d like that.” 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul let out a heavy sigh. “We want different things,” he said after a moment. “Jane...she wants to focus on her career, and I thought that we’d made an agreement that when we got married and had children, I would be the provider. I don’t want my kids wondering why their mother is off gallivanting around the bloody world on a theatre tour. If I have to be off making music, the least she can do is stay at home with them. I don’t want to have to hire a bloody governess.” He lit a cigarette. “It seems that she was content to allow me to believe those things were going to happen until she realised that I meant them. I went on the bloody telly and made a fool out of myself talking about how I wanted to be a father, and how I couldn’t wait to have lots of little McCartneys running around in me yard and a wife who was there when I came home from work...the daft thing is that I realised while I was on my flight over here, I realised that I knew that I couldn’t ever get those things with her. I was picturing you.” 
> 
> “You know that Heather and I are a packaged deal, right?” Linda asked him. “I’m not going to leave her with my dad or my brother and pretend she doesn’t exist just so we can be a happy family.” 

“Ruth? Paul?” Paul heard his stepmother call out, and he managed to resist openly groaning, mainly because Ruth was with him, and he didn’t want to upset her. “You can come in. It’s time for tea!”

“Do we really have to stop playing?” Ruth asked him, the disappointment evident in her eyes. 

He nodded. “We ought to listen to Angie,” he told her. “She’s your mum. She probably wants us to eat.” 

Ruth let out a sigh. “You promise that you’re going to stay the night?” 

“Paul!”

“We’re coming, Angie!” Paul assured her, before he returned his attention to Ruth. “I told you, I’m staying the night, and then tomorrow night as well,” he said to her. “So you’ve got me for two days, and then Martha’ll be staying with you while I’ve gone to America, so you’ll be able to see me when I get back, too.” He let out a sigh. “We ought to go in, your mum wants us to.” 

Ruth slipped her hand into his. “Okay, we can go in and eat,” she settled on. “I’m hungry.” 

“I’m hungry too,” he admitted. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think that I’ve eaten at all today.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“I work odd hours, you know that,” he told her, as they headed in the direction of the house. Martha padded alongside them. “We worked all day and then I came here.” 

Paul left out the fight that he’d had with Jane. He didn’t think that his younger sister needed to hear that. 

They reached the back door, where his stepmother stood, and he realised that he would have to be polite and give her a hug and a kiss, no matter how little he wanted to. It was unfair to be rude to her, at least to her face, if she made her dad happy. He didn’t want to upset Ruth. 

“Hullo, Angie,” he said, and he wrapped his free arm around her, before giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry that I surprised everyone with a visit,” he told her. “I really did mean to call, I just forgot.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s good to see you.” 

“He said that he’s staying for two days, Mum!” Ruth added. “Did you make cottage pie?” 

“Of course I did,” she told her. “You must be excited.” 

She nodded. “I missed him!” 

“I missed you, too,” Paul told Ruth. He had missed her, even if he still wasn’t a fan of the reasons that he was in her life. “I am sorry, truly. I’ve just been busy since we got back from India.” 

It was a poor excuse. 

Angie’s eyes lit up. “Busy with what?” 

“What do you think I’ve been busy with?” Paul asked her, and he entered the kitchen. “Haven’t you read a paper lately?” 

“Are you doing a new album?” Ruth asked him, her tone curious. “You said that you had to go to Capitol, when you were on the phone earlier.” 

“Right, that’s not because of a new record,” he told her. “I’m going to Capitol because we’ve started a company of our own, called Apple, and I’ve been chosen to be the one who talks to the people at Capitol who are in charge of things there about our new venture. It’s not just us who’ll be using Apple, y’know. It’s a whole lot of people.” 

“Come on, Ruth,” Angie said. “Why don’t we sit down and start our meal? You can ask Paul questions then, if you’re not bothering him.”

“She’s not a bother,” he said. “She’s curious, she wants to know why I haven’t been around. I don’t mind answering her questions.”

Paul took his seat at the table, and he managed a sincere smile at Ruth when she sat down beside him. Angie said down next to his father. 

“Look, I’m sorry that I just showed up,” he said. “I meant to call, and I will next time.” 

“You don’t need to apologise,” his father told him. “I understand that you forgot.” 

“How was India?” Angie asked him. He took a bite of his cottage pie, and he swallowed, needing a moment to collect his thoughts. “Did you all have a good time?” 

“It was fine, thanks,” he said. “It was nice to get away from everything here, y’know. It was a bit of a lark of a holiday, John and George are the ones who are into all that. I think it’s rubbish.”

“What did you do in India?” Ruth asked him. “Did you ride an elephant?” Her eyes were wide. 

Paul shook his head. “I didn’t see any elephants, I’m sorry, Ruth. I wish I had done, y’know. That would have been gear.” He sighed. “I saw elephants when I went to Kenya a couple years ago. I’ll pull my slides when I get home and print the photographs off for you, if you’d like?” 

“Will you really?” 

“Of course,” he said. “You’re my sister. If you want to see them I’ll have them properly developed.” He quirked a grin at her. “To answer your question, we didn’t really do much of anything. There was a lot of meditation and we wrote a lot of songs, nothing really worth getting excited over. It was a bit of a drag to be honest with you.” 

“So you are making a new record?” His father asked. 

Paul shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve been recording, who knows if we’re going to be bothered to release any of it, though. Right now I have more important things to deal with than figuring out whether or not we’re going to be releasing a new record. “

“Your father was only asking you a question, Paul,” Angie said. “You didn’t have to answer him with tone.” 

Paul scowled. He was nearly twenty six and felt he could have tone towards his father if he wanted to. Where did Angie get off telling him that he couldn’t? That was bollocks. 

“Sorry, Dad,” he muttered. “I’m only telling the truth. I don’t know whether or not it will be released. Right now we’re just getting the songs out, y’know?” 

“It’s fine, son,” his dad said. “I was only curious.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Heather had been somewhat upset about the fact that she had told her that she would have to stay longer at her grandparents, but she had been mollified by the fact that Linda had promised her that she wouldn’t be flying around the world without her anytime soon, and the two had parted with minimal tears. Linda knew that her father and Monique would take good care of Heather, and she knew that she couldn’t have dragged her along to Los Angeles with her and Paul. It wouldn’t have been fair to spring her on him. 

They hadn’t actually met, after all, and Linda didn’t think that Heather tagging along on Paul’s business trip would be a very enjoyable way for the two of them to get acquainted. 

She was just glad that Paul hadn’t stopped calling her when he’d found out that she had a child. It wasn’t as if a single mother -- who had managed to obtain a divorce and full legal and physical custody of her child -- was really that much of a draw, especially in her social circles. It had figured that Paul had been engaged at the time. 

Linda was drawn from her thoughts when someone dropped down onto the seat beside her, and she stopped examining her nails to acknowledge them. It was Paul, who was sporting a rather ridiculous pair of sunglasses in a clear attempt not to be seen. 

“You came,” he said. “I was worried that you wouldn’t.” 

“I said that I was going to,” she pointed out, and she shifted in her seat in order to get a better look at him. “You’ve been sleeping.” 

“Only because I’ve been at my father’s house,” he told her. “I had to get away from London after what Jane did to me,” he added, his tone hushed. “So I made the error of judgement of going to visit my dad. He’s got a daughter, aged eight. Me stepmum doesn’t like it when I stay up late while I’m there. She says it ‘encourages’ Ruth.” 

“I didn’t know that you had a sister,” Linda pointed out. 

“I don’t want people knowing,” he said. “She’s a kid. I don’t want all of the fans figuring out that she’s my sister and going out and tracking her down.” He sighed. “How’s Heather?” 

“She’s fine,” Linda said, and she pulled out a proof of some photos that she’d taken of Heather. She had pinned the photograph that she’d taken of Paul on the wall in her apartment, and had easily convinced Heather to pose for her in front of it. “Do you want to see some pictures I’ve taken?” 

Paul nodded, and she could see his eyes brighten beneath his lenses. “Yeah, Linda, I’d love that,” he said to her. “She’s five, you said, right?” 

“Yeah,” she said, and she handed him the proof sheet. “I put your picture on the wall,” she explained, as he examined the sheet with care. “Heather was curious about it, so I took those pictures.” 

“You reckon you’d be able to send me one?” 

“Of course I can,” she told him. “A sheet like that, or…” 

“I want one that I can frame,” he told her, and she noticed that he appeared to be blushing. His cheeks had coloured a bright red. “Y’know, frame it and put it on my desk, or something. I dunno really. I don’t even know if that would be okay by you, you’re her mum.” 

“I don’t mind.” Linda said. “Paul, you know that I care about you, right? I mean, I agreed to go on this trip with you without much notice, even though I really can’t stand going on airplanes...if you want to be with me, and you’re finished with Jane, I don’t see why we shouldn’t be together. That includes my daughter.” 

“I know that it does,” he said, and he worried his lip. “Why do you hate riding on aeroplanes?” 

“My mother,” she said after a moment of silence. “She died in a plane crash. I wouldn’t have agreed to go with you if flying was  _ that _ big of a dealbreaker,” she added. Paul had stretched his arm out and thrown it over her shoulders. “I just...I’m not really great with flying, that’s all.” 

“My mum died, too,” he said. “She didn’t die in an aeroplane crash. Maybe it would have been easier if she had, instead of her pretending that she wasn’t doing poorly, and that there was nothing for us to worry about.” He shrugged his shoulders. “She went into hospital and died after a surgery gone wrong. They made us go to school the next day.” 

“What?” Linda asked him, and she did her best to hide her shock. “Why would your father have made you do that?” 

“We had to carry on,” he said. “We were told we had to, for Dad’s sake. He didn’t handle Mum’s death very well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It was what we did, y’know?” 

“Paul…” Linda started to say, before trailing off. “Paul, listen. You should have been able to grieve for your mother. You were a child.” 

“I was fourteen,” he said. “Not a child.” 

“You were a child, Paul,” she whispered, and she reached her hand up so that she could squeeze his. “Maybe you weren’t a young child, that’s true, but you were still a child. I understand that your father was grieving, but there was no excuse for forcing you and your brother to go to school as if nothing had happened.”

“Are you sure?” 

She shifted so that she could look at him, and she nodded. “Of course I’m sure, Paul. Your mother had just died...sending you to school was an inappropriate response, and I can’t believe that they did that. I understand that your father was upset, but surely you and your brother would have been able to mourn with him, or--”   
  


“We went to live with me aunt,” he told her. “Dad couldn’t handle us.” 

Linda’s eyes widened, but she did her best to hide her open alarm, as Paul started divulging what had happened to him and his younger brother after their mother died. She didn’t want him to become embarrassed, and she forced herself to remember that it was in the past. Getting angry over their behaviour wasn’t going change what had happened, and she didn’t want to stop Paul from talking about it. How dare his father have sent him and his brother out to various relatives when they should have been with him, trying to process how to handle their loss? Paul may have been fourteen, but Mike had to have been younger. 

“What if that was Heather?” She asked him, trying to stop him from continuing to justify his relatives’ behaviour. “Paul?” 

“What?” 

“If Heather was fourteen, and your choices were to send her away from relative to relative, or to keep her with you, so you could mourn together, were I to die?” 

Linda hated to be so blunt, but she figured that the mention of the little girl who’d posed for the photos that Paul held in his hand would put the situation in perspective for him. 

“I wouldn’t send her away,” he said, his tone soft. “Lin, if you  _ ever _ trusted me to be in Heather’s life at all, I would  _ never _ send her away. I didn’t know that you’d ever want me in her life. You said--”

“You were engaged to be married,” she pointed out. “What would have been the point of bringing Heather around you and letting her get to know you if we had an expiry date? I didn’t want her to get hurt. She’s already had her father leave, and she’s so young -- I didn’t want to have something similar happen again.” Linda had done what was right for her daughter, and she stood by her actions. “If you and Jane are really and truly done…I don’t necessarily object to you and Heather getting to know each other.”

Paul let out a heavy sigh. “We want different things,” he said after a moment. “Jane...she wants to focus on her career, and I thought that we’d made an agreement that when we got married and had children, I would be the provider. I don’t want my kids wondering why their mother is off gallivanting around the bloody world on a theatre tour. If I have to be off making music, the least she can do is stay at home with them. I don’t want to have to hire a bloody governess.” He lit a cigarette. “It seems that she was content to allow me to believe those things were going to happen until she realised that I meant them. I went on the bloody telly and made a fool out of myself talking about how I wanted to be a father, and how I couldn’t wait to have lots of little McCartneys running around in me yard and a wife who was there when I came home from work...the daft thing is that I realised while I was on my flight over here, I realised that I knew that I couldn’t ever get those things with her. I was picturing you.” 

“You know that Heather and I are a packaged deal, right?” Linda asked him. “I’m not going to leave her with my dad or my brother and pretend she doesn’t exist just so we can be a happy family.” 

“I know that,” he said. “I know that you and Heather are a packaged deal, and I would never want you to leave her behind. I’ll be whatever you’d want me to be towards her. Paul, Dad, whatever. I get that she’s your top priority. That she comes first. And, if she doesn’t like me, I’m not going to force her to. I wouldn’t force you to be with me, either, y’know. I get that it sucks when your parent’s replaced. It’s bloody awful.” 

“He left me while I was pregnant,” Linda admitted. “Why even bother marrying me when all he wanted to go was go on some stupid geological study in Africa? Then he claimed that he wanted us to go with him, after my brother managed to track him down? He didn’t care about what was good for Heather at all. The only decent thing he ever did for her was signing his rights away.” 

“I’m...I’m really sorry, that he did that,” he said, and she heard the sudden edge to his tone. “What was the point of marrying you if he was just going to run off on the two of you like a child? He shouldn’t have done that. You were his wife. You were pregnant. I would never do that to someone I loved.” 

Linda scoffed. “He didn’t love us.” 

“So, Heather, she’s five, right?” Paul asked her, and she appreciated the subject change. Heather was a much more pleasant subject for her to talk about. “She looks like you.” 

“You really think so?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I really do. John’s got a five year old,” he added. “He’s named Julian.” 

“Do you think they’d get on?” 

“I don’t know,” he said. “I barely know what end is up with John, nowadays, but I reckon that they’d be fine together. He’s not a bad kid. I think he likes me more than he likes his own dad some days.” He sighed. “Rich’s kids are younger. But. I don’t see why they wouldn’t all get on, y’know. We’re a family.” 

“I was thinking of bringing her with us,” Linda admitted. “But I didn’t want to ruin your vacation by saddling you with a five year old.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded,” he said. “I reckon she’d have been bored, though. It’s not much fun. Lot of bloody meetings that I’m going to have to go to alone because John decided to sod off this business trip he’s known about for months.” He rolled his eyes. “He’s such a wanker. I don’t know what he’s up to, but he’s been strange, even by his standards.” She was surprised when she felt him kiss the top of her head, before he rested his chin on top of her. “I was going to ask if you wanted to tag along, y’know, but I reckoned it would bore you.”

“I’ll go,” she said. “If you want me to be there with you. I’ll go.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Paul knew that he was risking John’s ire having brought Linda to Capitol Records, but he really didn’t have the energy to care. He thought that John was a hypocrite. Paul didn’t know what had gotten into the older man, but he was bloody well tired of Yoko hanging around the recording studio, thinking that her input was something that Paul and the others dearly valued. It was any wonder that they had managed to get Ringo to come back to the studio. 

Not that he’d dare bring Linda to a recording session. That was improper. He maintained that there was a difference between bringing Linda to tour the record company’s headquarters and tag along with him to various business engagements, especially given the fact that Capitol had been under the assumption that John would be joining them.

It had been slightly awkward at first, but he thought that everything had gone well. He’d been able to enjoy principled discussions with the executives at Capitol, and no one had thought that his companion had taken leave of his senses. He thought that Linda had enjoyed herself, too. 

“What did you think?” He asked her, once they’d gotten back to their suite. When he’d found out that she’d been willing to accompany him, he’d managed to book a reservation in at a nicer property. Linda deserved the best. “Has the allure worn off a bit?” He grinned at her. 

“It was interesting,” she told him. “I’ve never been on this side of the business before, you know me, I just take pictures. So it was nice to learn something new.” 

“You take brilliant pictures,” he assured her, as he discarded his suit jacket. He aimed it in the direction of the chair, but it crumpled onto the floor. “Seriously, Lin, I love your work.” 

“You’re sweet.” Linda gave him a kiss on the lips. “I ought to call Heather, and then I’m all yours, what do you say about that? Think we can have our own fun?”

“I reckon we can entertain ourselves,” he agreed, his voice practically a purr. “You want me to give you some privacy?” 

Much to his surprise, Linda shook her head. “I’m going to see if Heather will want to talk to you,” she told him. “I mean, if you want?” 

“Yeah, of course I want that,” he told her. “I told you, I’m all in. If she’s ready to talk to me, Lin, I’m ready to talk to her.” 

Paul settled down on the chair beside the telephone, and he tugged Linda down onto his lap, pleased by the squeak she made. He promised himself that he would be on his best behaviour while she was on the phone with Heather. He didn’t want to scare the little one on the other end of the line. Linda had spoken with Heather at least once a day since they’d arrived in Los Angeles, but the young girl hadn’t wanted to speak to the man described as ‘Mummy’s friend’. He hadn’t wanted to push it. Heather was young. 

He looped his arms around Linda’s waist as she spoke to Heather, whom he could hear chattering eagerly away on the other end of the telephone line. He couldn’t entirely make out what she was saying, but at least she didn’t sound upset about being sent to her grandfather’s house for a longer spell than had been originally planned. 

“She wants to talk to you,” Linda told him, and she handed him the telephone. “That’s still okay, right?” 

Paul forced back the lump that had grown in his throat, and he nodded. “Yeah, Lin. I want to talk to her.” He held the phone up to his ear, hoping that his nervousness wasn’t blatantly evident. “Hullo? Is this Heather?” 

He heard giggling on the other end of the line. “Hi,” she said in response, after a moment. “Yes, it’s me. Are you Mommy’s friend?” 

“Yeah, y’know, I am your mummy’s friend, me name’s Paul. I care for her a lot, y’know, and I know that she cares about you. Are you having fun at your grandfather’s?” 

“Uh huh,” she said after a moment. “Why do you talk like that?” 

“Because I’m mummy’s friend from England,” he told her. “So I sound a little funny to ye.” 

“Oh,” she said. “Are you coming back to New York with her?” 

Paul paused. “Uh, I dunno, really,” he said. “I haven’t thought about it. Would you like that?” 

“I can’t meet you if you live in England,” she pointed out. “Isn’t it far away?”

“You--you’d like to meet me, Heather?” Paul asked her, not wanting to put words into her mouth, but thoroughly bemused by the possibility. 

“Mommy likes you,” she said. “She says she likes you a lot...yes. I want to meet you.”

Paul ran his free hand through his hair. “Well, I reckon that I’d like to meet you, too,” he said. “I’ll have to talk with Mummy and see if we can sort things so that I can.” 

She giggled again. “Okay. Can I say bye to Mommy now?” 

“Sure, Heather,” he said, his tone easy. “Of course you can say bye to your mummy. Thanks for talking to me.”

“Bye, Paul.” Heather chirped, and Paul felt his heart start to beat uncomfortably fast. He passed the phone back to Linda, and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Mommy?”

“Yes, Heather, I’m here,” Linda said into the receiver. “Are you getting ready to go to bed? Is Aunt Louise going to read you a goodnight story?” 

Paul could hear Heather answering in the affirmative. “Okay, sweetie, I’m going to let you go, okay? Have a good night. I love you.” She replaced the phone in the cradle. “You really want to come back to New York with me? Don’t you have work?”    
  


“I can stay for a couple of days,” he told her. “I want to meet Heather. She’s important to you, and I want to make sure that she likes me, y’know? They can survive without me for a couple days more. I just hope they won’t kill themselves.” 

“Is something wrong?” Linda asked him, as she shifted so that she was facing him, though she was still sat on the chair. He fumbled idly with the buttons on her top. “Are you not getting along?”

“John’s been hanging around with this horrible woman,” Paul admitted. “Her name is Yoko. She’s clearly hanging around him in the hopes that she can get her claws in with me. I can’t stand her. She came round a couple years ago asking me if I’d give her some song lyrics and I fobbed her off on John, and I get to the studio the other day and she’s sat there on an amplifier. So I asked John what he was playing at and he starts spouting all this utter inanity. I still don’t know what half of it meant. He wanted to take her here, to Capitol, instead of me, so I told him that if he didn’t want to come with me, he didn’t have to. I was uninviting him.” He scrubbed at his face. “It’s all a bunch of rubbish, if you ask me, y’know. If Heather wants me to meet her and spend some time with the two of ye, who am I to say no? Is it okay with you?” 

“Of course, it’s okay with me,” she assured him, and she leaned in to give him a kiss. “I want you and Heather to like each other, and you should be getting to know her. I think it’s sort of sexy.” 

Paul felt his trousers tighten. “You--you, uh, you do? What’s sexy about it?” 

“Well, you know, no one really bothers to care about Heather,” Linda said, and she began to unbutton his shirt. “The second I mention her it’s like I’m a highly contagious leper. You, on the other hand, you’ve asked me questions about her, you spoke to her on the phone…” 

“She’s your daughter,” he said, as he undid her blouse. “Why wouldn’t I want to get to know her?” 

Heather was Linda’s daughter, and Paul liked that Linda was a mum. She was a real woman. He liked that about her. He wanted to chase down any bloke that had given her shit for Heather existing, and he wanted to punch them. 

“I want to be a dad some day,” he said earnestly, as he undid the last button on her blouse, and she slipped it off, and threw it beside where his suit jacket had flown. “So what if she’s not mine biologically or whatever? That really doesn’t bother me.” 

“And if she ended up viewing you as her father?” Linda asked, having successfully undone his shirt, and begun to work on his trousers. Paul rather enjoyed the view of his girlfriend. She was clad only in a miniskirt, having forgone a bra when they’d dressed that morning. “What would you think of that?” 

“I don’t expect her too,” he assured her. “It’s whatever she wants. I’ll be whatever she wants. If she does? That’s brilliant. If she just wants me to be Paul, well, I can handle that.” He wrapped his arms around her, and stood up, intent on heading over to the bed. “What do you say, momma? You want to play?” 

Linda giggled. “You don’t have to ask, Paul. I’ve been waiting to get in bed with you since we arrived at Capitol this morning. Why don’t you take off those uncomfortable looking pants?” 

Linda had slipped out of her skirt, and the offending garment had landed at his feet, followed by her knickers. Paul’s trousers soon joined them, along with his boxers. His erection sprang to attention. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he told her, and he joined her on the bed, more interested in pleasing her than he was of handling himself. “You’ve really been wanting a shag since we arrived at Capitol?”

He pressed a trail of kisses down her body, taking care to give each of her breasts an equal amount of attention, pleased with the keening noises she made in response, especially as he entered his fingers inside of her, seeking out her centre of pleasure. Paul prided himself in his ability to pleasure his partners. There was no point in shagging if the lady didn’t get a bloody thing out of it. He particularly liked pleasuring Linda, because she told him what she wanted, and showed her appreciation. 

“I always want to shag you,” she told him, her tone breathy. “You don’t need to question that.” 

“I love you, Lin,” he whispered, and he kissed her again. “I love you so much.” 

Paul didn’t bother with a condom, as Linda was on the pill, and he had been having a bit of a dry spell in the weeks prior to seeing her. Months, even. Jane had been the only one, mainly because he hadn’t had the time to get to see anyone else, or the desire, when the woman that he’d wanted was right there, underneath him. He entered her slowly. 

“I don’t think that I’m going to last long,” he said in apology. “I’ve been raring to go. Are you good?” 

Linda nodded, and she let out a groan. “Fuck.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He supposed the only consolation -- however slight -- was that it appeared that Mr. McCartney -- though the very definition of a womanising long haired hippie -- had deigned to pay Heather more attention in a ten minute telephone conversation than her own father had ever bothered to. 
> 
> Lee scowled as he thought of Mel. The man had graduated from Princeton, of all things. He had really thought that Linda had found a decent man, even though her unexpected pregnancy had forced them into an early marriage, and a ridiculous move out to Arizona. What had Mel done to repay him? 

“Do you reckon she’d like this?” Paul asked Linda, his voice drawing her from her silent panic as the plane hit a moment of turbulence. She glanced over at him. Her hand gripped the armrest between them as if her life depended on it. Paul had opened the carrier bag that he’d brought with them to reveal a giant grizzly bear. “Heather?” 

“You bought that for Heather?” Linda asked him. “That’s so sweet, Paul. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know that I didn’t have to,” he told her, and he covered her hand with his. “I wanted to, y’know, I figured that she’d like it. Since we’re meeting for the first time, it only seemed right to give her a pressie.” He cleared his throat. “Only if it’s okay with you, though. I won’t give it to her if you think that it’s presumptive of me.” 

“I don’t think that it’s presumptive of you,” she assured him. “Heather will love it. It’s very sweet. Where did you get it?” 

“The little shop in the hotel foyer,” he told her. “Had to buy Ruth something, y’know, so I reckoned I’d buy Heather something too. I don’t understand how this bloody Yank money works, though,” he added. “I reckon they’d have been able to fleece me if they’d wanted to.” 

“You bought something for your little sister?” Linda had to admit that she was somewhat surprised by that. Paul seemed to have little love lost for the woman that his father had married. She’d worried that his feelings extended to the little girl. She was glad to see that they didn’t. “Do you see her often?” 

“Martha’s been left with them,” he said after a moment. She heard the click of a lighter, as Paul lit a cigarette. “I’m going to have to see them when I get back to England.” She heard him sigh. “I usually buy Ruth little souvenirs when I’m out on the road,” he said. “Since we’ve stopped touring, I’ve obviously done so less often, but when I do it, it makes her happy. She’s just a kid, Lin. I wouldn’t take my feelings out on her.” 

Linda nodded. “I didn’t think that you would have,” she admitted. “I just...I wanted to make sure.” 

“She’s me sister,” he said. “I don’t have a problem with her. Just her mum.” 

“I hate flying,” she admitted. “Especially when we hit turbulence.” 

“I know. It’s okay. I’m not going to make you fly across the country to have a wild weekend with me like that again. I’ll come to you, and to New York, in future.” He squeezed her hand, and she managed a slight smile. “I mean, that’s what you want, right? Me to come back?” 

“Of course that’s what I want,” she assured him. “I just don’t know if you’ll want to after you’ve been interrogated by my father.” She sighed. “I told him that I was perfectly capable of getting Heather on my own and bringing her back home, and he’s insisted that they’re both going to meet us at the airport, because he, and I quote, ‘wants to meet the person that Heather is so excited to meet’.” Linda focused her gaze on the seatback in front of her. “I told him that I was dating you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I tried to say that we were only friends, but he didn’t--”   
  


“What are you sorry for?” Paul asked her, and he flipped the centre armrest up, before she felt him wrap his arm around her. “Isn’t that what we’re doing? Dating?” 

Linda instinctively leaned against him. There was something comforting about his arm around her, even though they were still in the air. “Well, of course we’re dating,” she said. “I just don’t want him to scare you away.” 

“I’m not going to lie, I am terrified of meeting your father,” he said after a moment. “But it has to be done eventually, and we may as well rip the plaster off sooner rather than later. I know that I’m not perfect, Lin, and he’s got every right to be concerned. I want to meet him, though. I don’t expect him to like me.” 

“You don’t?” 

Paul sighed. “Face it, Lin. Me reputation with women precedes me,” he told her. “I don’t blame your father for being concerned about me. Just because I know that I’ve changed doesn’t mean that everyone’s forced to believe that. Especially not your dad.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But, he’s your dad, and I want to meet him.” 

“I guess Heather’s been excited to meet you,” she said, after a moment. “Meeting ‘Mommy’s friend’ has been all she’s been talking about. Which is good, but of course it’s meant that you’ve piqued everyone’s interest. They all wanted to come to the airport,” she told him. “I told them no. There’d be plenty of time for them to meet you in a private setting. I know that you don’t want to cause a scene at the airport.” 

Paul nuzzled her neck. “I love you, Lin.” 

“I love you, too,” she said, surprised at herself for admitting so. “You know that, right?” 

He chuckled. “I kind of reckoned, y’know, when you told your daughter and your dad about me, about us. It’s still nice to hear, though.” She felt him trace his fingers against the skin on her arm, and she snuggled closer. “It’s okay to be scared, y’know. You don’t have to be brave for me.” 

“It’s stupid,” she corrected him. “To be scared of a flight? How am I going to take Heather to go see you?”    
  


“I’d fly out and take you back with me,” he said quietly. “I’d do it in a heartbeat, Lin. If we’re together like that, she’s partly my responsibility. I know that you’re her mum, you’re her parent, but I’m not going to leave ye both to fend for yourselves on an international flight.” 

“You’d really do that?” 

Linda had to admit that she wanted to believe Paul, but her past experience with men, okay, mainly with Mel, had left her dubious. Paul sounded sincere, but so had Mel when he’d convinced her that marrying him was what was best for the baby they’d had on the way. Where had that gotten her? Halfway across the country without any source of a support system, and with a squalling infant. It had taken her brother the greater part of a year to find her wayward husband to serve him with papers, and when he had, he hadn’t even been in the slightest bit remorseful. 

“I’d really do that,” he said. “I mean, Lin, we can settle down wherever you’d feel more comfortable. I don’t mind. I’ll live wherever you want, even if it’s here among the Yanks. I wouldn’t want you to fly overseas if it upset you too much. If you want to, though, yeah. I’ll make sure that I fly out and meet you and Heather, and we’ll all fly back together. The two of us should be able to handle the sprog, and I’ll be there to hold your hand the entire time.”

“That would be really nice, Paul,” she admitted. “I don’t know that I’m at that stage, yet, but…”

“Well, of course I don’t want the two of you to leave everything you’ve known and come live with me right away,” he said. “That wouldn’t be fair to you, or to Heather. No. I want to do this proper like. I’m going to spend a couple of days here with the two of you, and then I’m going to head home. I’ll visit you during breaks from recording the album.” He grinned toothily at her, and licked his lips. “I know it isn’t ideal, but I want to do things right by you, and by Heather.” 

“Maybe you could read her goodnight stories?” Linda suggested. “I know it would be early in the morning for you, but…” 

“You reckon she’d like that?” Paul asked her. “If I gave her a ring to read her a goodnight story, and maybe sang her a goodnight song?” 

“You’d do that for her?” 

“Yeah, I’ll sing her a goodnight song every night.” 

“Thank you, Paul.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he told her. “She’s a part of you. I love you, and I know that I’m going to love her. I want her to like me, too.” 

“She’s going to love you,” Linda promised him. “And we’re going to see her very soon.” 

“I’m so nervous,” he admitted. “You think it’ll be all right?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“...and Mommy’s new friend said that he was going to come meet me after their business trip,” Lee heard Heather practically screech in his ear, and he struggled to maintain his composure. He had heard quite enough about how excited Heather was to meet Linda’s new boyfriend, and he didn’t much care for her attempts to make him equally excited, or to reduce his hearing substantially. “I spoke to him on the telephone,” she added, a fact which was now etched permanently in Lee’s brain. “He says that he’s from...English Muffin?” 

“England,” Lee corrected her, as he pretended to be interested in the New York Times that he was theoretically reading. “He’s from England, Heather, not English Muffin.” 

“Right,” she said. “England. He talked funny.” 

“He’s got an accent,” he told her. “He’s from Liverpool.” 

“Where’s that? I thought he was from England?” 

Lee let out a sigh. “Liverpool is in England,” he told her. “It’s a city.” 

When Linda had called and told him that she was bringing her boyfriend back to New York to meet him, Lee had been unimpressed when she told him that they had been dating in secret for the greater part of a year. He had been even  _ less _ impressed when she had told him precisely whom she was dating: Paul McCartney. Lee didn’t particularly enjoy the company of Linda’s long haired friends, and he especially disapproved of people like that. Which, given that she’d hid their relationship for months, Lee realised Linda likely understood. 

He supposed the only consolation -- however slight -- was that it appeared that Mr. McCartney -- though the very definition of a womanising long haired hippie -- had deigned to pay Heather more attention in a ten minute telephone conversation than her own father had ever bothered to. 

Lee scowled as he thought of Mel. The man had graduated from Princeton, of all things. He had really thought that Linda had found a decent man, even though her unexpected pregnancy had forced them into an early marriage, and a ridiculous move out to Arizona. What had Mel done to repay him? 

Mel had taken advantage of Lee’s respect for him and the respect that his daughter had for their marriage, and he had seen nothing wrong with taking his leave, and going so far as to leave the country. When Linda had finally confessed that her husband had deserted her, he had put John on the hunt for him, not expecting it to take over a year. And to find him in Africa of all places? 

The only decent thing that Mel had done towards Linda and Heather was agreeing to the divorce and signing his rights away. 

“Aren’t you excited to meet Mommy’s friend?” Heather asked him. “When are they coming?” 

“Are you excited to meet him?” Lee asked her. He didn’t want to badmouth Paul, even though he was dreading the encounter. Didn’t Linda realise she didn’t need to bed a Beatle to gain respect? At the same time, if they had been dating for months, it was possible that they were genuinely in love. Lee didn’t know what option he preferred. “Their flight is taxiing down the runway.” He pointed to the arrival boards. 

Heather nodded. “Uh-huh. He was nice to me when we talked, and Mommy likes him a lot. I want to meet him. Don’t you?” 

Heather gazed up at him. Lee drew in a sharp breath. “Of course,” he assured her, lying through his teeth. “I always want to meet your mom’s friends.” 

“Can we meet them at the gate?” 

Lee sighed. “Yes, Heather, we can meet them at the gate.” 

Sometimes it was simpler to agree with Heather, who had skipped in the direction of the arrival gate before he’d even finished getting the words out. Lee followed behind her, taking the paper with him. 

“I’m not sure that your mother will be first off the plane, Heather, she’s probably in second or third class--” 

“Look, Grandpa!” Heather insisted, grabbing onto his hand with one hand, and gesturing with the other. “It’s Mommy! Mommy and her friend!”

Lee squinted at the couple in disbelief. He hadn’t anticipated that Linda’s new paramour had gotten her a seat in first class, and he allowed himself a moment to be silently impressed. Beside him, Heather was waving frantically at her mother. 

“Calm down,” he told her. “Your mother is almost here.” 

Heather did as she was told. “Sorry, Grandpa.” 

“It’s fine,” he said. “I know you’re excited to see your mother again.” 

“And to meet her friend Paul,” she reminded him. “Is that him?” 

Lee sighed, and opened his mouth to reply, though he was thankfully spared from doing so, due to Linda and Paul walking up to them. 

“Dad,” Linda said, and she leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “This is my boyfriend.” 

Paul extended his hand for him to shake. “Hullo, Mr. Eastman. I’m Paul. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Linda had scooped Heather into her arms. Lee narrowed his eyes. “Why do you have those ridiculous glasses on? We’re inside.”

“I have them on so people won’t notice me,” he told him. “I don’t want to cause a scene, not when I’m here with Linda and Heather.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“I respect that,” Mr. Eastman told him, though his tone was rather gruff. “You understand that this is a surprise to me, right? I had no idea that Linda was in a relationship with anyone, let alone someone along the likes of you.” 

“We wanted to keep it as private as possible,” he told him, taking care to leave out any mention of Jane. He was forever grateful that her fame was minor in the States. “Obviously I’m high profile, and I would never want your daughter to be exposed to any of that before she was ready.” 

“And she’s ready now?” 

Paul nodded. “Yes, we’ve discussed it, and we’re ready to take things to the next level, which is my meeting her family, including you, and Heather.” 

Heather had been peppering Linda with questions, but had fallen silent, her head laid on her mother’s bosom. 

“Dad,” Linda interjected. “I’m fine with this. I understand what I’m getting into.” 

“Linda tells me that you’re a lawyer,” he said. “Are you taking on any clients?” 

Mr. Eastman arched a brow. “What do you mean by that? I’m in entertainment, I can’t help you beat a rap sheet.” 

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he said. “We’ve started a corporation. Apple. I was wondering if maybe you’d be interested in going over the books?” 

“You’ve...started a corporation?” 

“We had to,” Paul said. “We would have lost a lot of money. So we reckoned we’d give it a go. We didn’t think it would be very hard, but I think we overestimated our capabilities.” 

He drew in a breath. “Fine,” he said. “I don’t know what possessed you four to think that you could just decide to create a corporation because you were bored, but I suppose it’s the peril of how you’ve come into your money. I’ll look into helping you.” 

“Great,” Paul told him. “That would be brilliant. Our second choice was a fellow named Klein? I haven’t met him, but he’s managed the Stones?” 

“Absolutely not,” Mr. Eastman said. “I won’t allow Allen Klein within an arm’s reach of someone associated with  _ my _ daughter. I will personally handle this so that that does not happen.” He turned to Linda. “I have to go, I’m meeting your brother for lunch. I trust that you’ll get home safely?” 

“Dad,” Linda said. “I’m a grown woman. Yes. We’ll get home safely.” 

“Bye, Grandpa,” Heather added. 

With that, Mr. Eastman took his leave. 

“Hullo, Heather,” Paul said softly, and he felt his heart start to beat awfully fast. “Did you want me to carry your rucksack?”

In her haste to hug Linda, Heather’s luggage had been dropped at her feet. 

“Are you feeling shy, sweetheart?” Linda asked her. Heather nodded her head. “It’s okay.”

“I, uh, I bought you something,” he told Heather. “Do you want to see what I got you?” 

“Yes,” Heather answered, her voice barely audible. “You show me.” 

Paul pulled the stuffed animal out of the carrier bag, and he held it out to her. “I thought that you’d like this. It’s a grizzly bear. The sign at the store said that they were on the state flag of California.” 

“It looks cuddly.” 

“I reckon that it might be,” he told her. “Do you want to hold it?” 

Heather nodded. “Please.”

Linda placed her on the floor, and he settled the bear in her outstretched arms. “How about you carry the bear, and I carry your bag? Would that be okay?”    
  


“Can I hold your hand? Mommy says I have to hold a grown up’s hand in the airport.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, that’s right,” he said after a moment, during which he had furiously puffed on the cigarette without uttering a word. “I’m a Beatle. I don’t want to be Beatle Paul around you, Heather,” he continued. “That’s my job. In England, I’m a Beatle. I go to interviews and put on a show, I go to the studio and record songs, sometimes me mates and I pose for photographs. Like the ones your mummy took. And I was a Beatle when I was in LA. Being with your mum was the only good thing about it.” Heather had noticed that Paul smiled whenever he spoke about her mommy. She didn’t know if he realised that he was doing it. “When I’m with you and your mum, I just want to be her boyfriend, and your Uncle Paul. Okay?” 

“You want to hold my hand?” Paul asked her, rather hesitantly. “Are you sure, Heather?” 

She nodded, the bear tucked under her arm. “I always hold Mommy’s hand, and I want to hold yours. Don’t you want to?” 

Paul wasn’t about to admit that he was terrified by a five year old, especially since this was Linda’s daughter, but there was a part of him that was indeed terrified by the five year old who was Linda’s daughter. 

“If it’s okay with your mum,” he told her, and he glanced over at Linda. “She’s the one that gets to decide that, y’know, not me, because she’s your mummy.” 

“I don’t mind if you hold Paul’s hand, Heather,” Linda said. “Is that what you’d want?” 

“Uh-huh,” she said, and she reached her hand out again. This time, Paul allowed her to clasp his. “He’s nice to me. He talked to me on the phone and he got me a new bear.” 

“Would you be okay if he spent a couple of days with us? Staying in our apartment?” 

Heather nodded. “I want him to.” 

Linda smiled at her, before she shifted her gaze to him. “See? She wants you to.”

“Well, who am I to say no?” Paul said. Of course, he would have been staying with Heather and Linda anyways, but the little girl could think that she’d made the decision herself. He didn’t mind that. “We’re going to have a brilliant time,” he told Heather. 

“Can we get pizza for dinner?” Heather asked Linda. “Do you like pizza, Paul?”    
  


“I dunno,” he told her. “I’ve never really had it. It’s not popular in England, y’know? Do you like pizza?” 

Heather nodded. “So much,” she said. “It’s the bestest.” 

“Do you want to order a pizza?” Linda asked him. “I don’t mind if we get a pizza or two. I figured that it would be in everyone’s best interest to lay low while you’re visiting. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable if people notice you.” 

“I don’t want them to scare Heather,” he whispered, his tone low, and he looped his arm through the strap of Heather’s bag. “Do you want me to carry yours?” He asked Linda. 

“No, honey, you’ve got your bag, and Heather’s,” she said. “I can handle my own.” 

Paul wanted to protest that he could handle everyone’s luggage, but he didn’t want to get into a row with Linda over it. Not when he was meeting her daughter for the first time. This was important to him, and he wanted to get it right. 

“What did you do at your grandfather’s house, Heather?” Paul asked her. He was genuinely curious about what she’d gotten up to, and asking about her trip there seemed like a good conversational tactic. “Did you do anything fun?” 

“Auntie Louise took me on the horsies,” she told him. “She let me ride on a pony! It was so fun.” 

“I’ve never been on a horse before,” he admitted. “Do you like going to visit your grandfather?” 

She crinkled up her nose. “I don’t like when Mommy works so much,” she said after a moment. “I miss her. I don’t want her to be lonely.” 

Paul felt somewhat guilty. He hadn’t meant to take Linda away from Heather. He’d just wanted to spend time with her while he’d been in LA. 

“Mummy wasn’t lonely,” he promised her. “I was with her, y’know. We kept each other company.” 

“I know, she told me,” she said. “Did you take pictures, Mommy?” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Linda said. “I’ll make sure to show you them once I’ve had them developed.” 

Heather seemed satisfied with the promise of seeing her mother’s pictures later, and she lapsed into silence. She held tight to his hand, her bear still tucked under her other arm. Paul was pleased that she liked it. He hadn’t thought that she would be willing to accept a gift from him at all, so it was a relief that she had. 

“How are we getting back to your flat?” He asked Linda, who was on his other side, her arm looped through his. “Are we going to hire a cab? Or are we taking the subway? That’s what you call it here, right?” 

“That is what we call it,” she said, and she let out a sigh. “I think that hailing a cab would be in everyone’s best interests. We have a lot of stuff with us, and a five year old.” 

“Hey!” Heather protested. “I ride the subway!”

“I know that you do, sweetie, but don’t you want to take a taxi? We’d be able to show Paul more of the city, that way. I think that he’d like that, you know? He’s never really been here.” 

Heather glanced up at him. “You haven’t?” 

“No, y’know, I really haven’t seen much of the city,” he admitted. “I’d love to see it with you.” 

Paul didn’t care whether they took a cab or the subway, he just wanted Linda to be happy. If her preference was for them to take the cab, he would do his best to get Heather on board with it. He didn’t want the little one to have strop in the middle of the airport. That was bound to get them noticed. 

He’d been lucky so far, and he hadn’t been spotted. Maybe it was because it was the middle of the day, and people were more focused on running to catch their flights than they were in playing the never fun game of spot the Beatle? Or maybe it was because he’d worn sunglasses to the airport, and people just assumed they were a young family. He didn’t want Heather to get upset and have her upsetness be the reason that people found them out. 

“I want to show you,” Heather said, and she smiled up at him. “Mommy?” 

“Yes, darling?”   
  


“Can your friend carry me to the taxis?” Heather asked her. “Please? My legs are so tired.” 

“It’s up to Paul, Heather. You’ll have to ask him.” 

“Will you carry me, Uncle Paul?” 

Paul forced himself to remain calm when Heather called him Uncle Paul, and he nodded in agreement, needing to take a moment to collect himself before he could speak. “Course I can carry you, Heather.” He scooped her up into his arms. “You want to call me Uncle Paul?” 

She nodded. “Can I?”

“Course you can,” he told her. “I’ll be Uncle Paul. That...that means a lot to me.” 

Heather was light for a five year old, so Paul had little trouble carrying her. She seemed pleased to be in his arms. 

“She seems to like you,” Linda commented. “Do you, sweetie?” 

“Yes!” Heather insisted. “Can we watch TV when we get home?” 

“What do you think, Paul? Do you want to watch some TV with Heather and me?” 

The flight had left him feeling rather knackered. He thought some time in front of the telly would do him some good. 

“Yeah, Lin, I’d love to.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Do you like our apartment, Uncle Paul?” Heather asked Paul, her tone insistent. She stared up at him with curious eyes. 

He glanced down at her, his eyes squinted. He still had his sunglasses on. “Of course I do,” he told her. “Your mum, she’s done a nice job with it.”

“Thanks, honey,” her mom said to him, and Heather watched as she gave him a kiss. “Why don’t you and Heather get comfortable on the couch? I’m going to freshen up.” 

Heather wanted to scowl at being left alone with a virtual stranger, but Paul had been nice to her, and she didn’t want him to stop liking her because she’d had a temper tantrum. She didn’t want her mom to get mad at her either. 

“What do you say, Heather?” Uncle Paul asked her. “Want to hang out with me while we wait for your mum?” 

“Okay,” she said softly. “We can hang out together.” 

“I’ll just be a few moments, okay?” Mommy told her, and she knelt down to give her a kiss. “I love you, sweetie.” 

“I love you, Mommy.” 

Heather did love her mom. She missed her when she went to work in places like Los Angeles and places like English Muffin, and she missed her when there were shows that she couldn’t bring Heather to. Heather didn’t know how much she liked her mom’s job as a photographer, but at least she didn’t have to go to that  _ stupid _ nursery school anymore. 

She sat down on the couch, leaving room for Uncle Paul to sit down beside her. When he did, she cradled her new stuffed animal in her arms. 

“So, ye like it, yeah?” He asked her, in a rather soft tone. “I thought that you might, y’know, because me sister, she’s around your age, and she likes it when I bring her cuddly toys.” 

“You have a sister?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, her name’s Ruth. She’s eight. So she’s a little older than you, but, I reckoned it was close enough.” 

Heather hadn’t imagined that someone so old would have a sister that was only a couple years older than her, and she cocked her head in disbelief. It wasn’t that she thought Paul was lying to her, she was just confused. 

“But, you’re Mommy’s age,” she said. “Aren’t you?” 

He chuckled. “Me dad, he got remarried a few years ago,” he said. “Ruth’s me sister because of that.” 

“Are you Mommy’s age?” 

“Roughly,” he told her. “I’m going to be 26 in a month, so I reckon your mummy and I are pretty close, yeah.” 

“Are you going to have a birthday party?” Heather loved her birthday. Everyone wanted to celebrate it, and Mommy let her stay up all night. “With a cake and all your friends?” 

“I dunno, really,” he said. “Well, all of me mates won’t be there, y’know, because you and your mum will be here in New York, not in London. I don’t know what I’m going to do back home. Maybe we can celebrate when I come back out to see you again? We can have a cake, and a pizza?” 

Heather did like pizza, and she loved cake. She wanted to celebrate Paul’s birthday with him. “If Mommy wants to,” she settled on. “We have to ask her.” 

“Of course we have to ask her,” he agreed, and he slipped off his sunglasses and sat them on the table. “That’s better,” he told her. “I was tired of having them on.” 

Heather squinted at him in confusion. “You look like the picture,” she said after a moment, and she pointed across the room to where her mom had tacked the photo from her trip to English Muffin onto the wall. “Are you him?”   
  


“Yeah,” he said after a moment. Heather noticed that Paul seemed rather interested in his knees, and not at looking her in the eye. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m  _ that _ Paul.” 

“I took my picture with you,” she said. “Mommy said that you were nice to her when she went to take your pictures.” 

“Of course I was nice to your mummy,” he said, and he glanced up at her in order to give her a half smile. “Your mummy’s brilliant, y’know? She’s a nice lady. She means a lot to me.” 

“Are you a Beatle?” Heather asked. She stroked the bear’s head. “Uncle Paul?” 

He lit up a cigarette. Heather was fascinated by the flame of his lighter. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said after a moment, during which he had furiously puffed on the cigarette without uttering a word. “I’m a Beatle. I don’t want to be Beatle Paul around you, Heather,” he continued. “That’s my job. In England, I’m a Beatle. I go to interviews and put on a show, I go to the studio and record songs, sometimes me mates and I pose for photographs. Like the ones your mummy took. And I was a Beatle when I was in LA. Being with your mum was the only good thing about it.” Heather had noticed that Paul smiled whenever he spoke about her mommy. She didn’t know if he realised that he was doing it. “When I’m with you and your mum, I just want to be her boyfriend, and your Uncle Paul. Okay?” 

Heather nodded. “Do you live in an apartment?” 

“No, I don’t live in a flat,” he told her. “I have a house, in London.” 

“But Grandpa said that you were from Liverpool,” she said, feeling confused. “Is that part of London?”

“Did your grandpa?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m from Liverpool, yeah, but I don’t live there anymore. I had to move closer to where I work, so I moved to London. I live just a few blocks over from where I work every day.” 

Heather knew that Paul didn’t want to discuss his work, so she didn’t ask him any questions. She simply reached out and grabbed ahold of his hand. 

“Do you like dogs?” He asked her. She nodded eagerly. “I’ve got a doggie, her name’s Martha. She’s staying at me dad’s while I’m in the States.”

“What kind of dog is she?” 

“A sheepdog,” he said. “She’s brilliant, great fun. I reckon that you’ll love her when you meet her.” 

“Do you have any sheep?” She curled closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. 

“No, I haven’t any sheep,” he said. “Martha just has to settle for herding me moggies around. Moggy’s a funny word for cat,” he added. Heather had been about to ask. “I have six.” 

“Six?”

“Yeah, six,” he confirmed. “I know, it’s a lot.” 

“Will I be able to meet them too?”

“When you and your mummy come to see me in London,” he told her. “I don’t think they’d like it very much if they traveled here.” 

Heather let out a sigh. “I wish that I had a moggy.” 

“Well, you’ve got the bear I gave you,” he pointed it, as he lit another cigarette. “What do you want to name it?” 

“You can name it,” she said. “You gave it to me. You should name it.”

“How does Abbey sound?” He asked her. “I work on Abbey Road, y’know, that’s where we record our music. So if we call the bear Abbey, it’s almost like you’re in London with me? I dunno. Maybe that’s daft.”

“I like Abbey.” Heather curled closer. Paul was soft and warm and he seemed to be safe for her to be around. “Thank you for buying her for me.” 

“You’re welcome, luv.” 

Heather heard the click of a shutter, and she realised that her mom was taking pictures of the two of them. She offered her a wave.

“You came back!” She chirped. “I knew you would, but Uncle Paul was telling me about his kitties. He called them moggies.”

“Do you like Uncle Paul?” Mommy asked her. 

Heather nodded. “He’s nice to me.” 

“Yeah, he’s nice to me, too,” she said. “Do you want me to send you these pictures, too?” 

“Cor, I’d like that,” he said. “I’ll set them up on me desk at home.” 

“You want to put pictures of me on your desk?” Heather asked him. 

“If that’s okay with you.” 

“Uh huh, you can.”

“Cor, well, that’s brilliant, then.” He ruffled her hair. “Did you want to watch the telly? I’m knackered.” 

“You can take a nap, Paul,” her mom said. She watched as Paul shook his head. “Paul…” 

“No,” he said. “I promised Heather I’d watch telly with her.” 

“Why don’t the two of you just nap together?” 

Heather hated to admit it, but she was tired too. “I want to cuddle with you and Abbey,” she told him. “Please?” 

Paul yawned. “Well, okay,” he said. “Since you asked so nicely.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, I think you’re brilliant,” he told her. “A brilliant mum, a brilliant photographer, and a brilliant woman in the bedroom.” He lowered his voice for the last comment, mindful of the fact that he could hear the sounds of a bedroom door opening and closing. Heather’s footsteps could be heard as they pounded down the hallway. 
> 
> “Guess what, Uncle Paul?” She demanded of him, as she came to a stop in front of him and Linda. “Guess what I am?” 

“What happened?” Paul asked Linda in a hoarse whisper, as he slowly opened his eyes. His mouth felt like cotton wool, and he desperately needed a drink of some sort to wash the dryness away. He was just pinned to his spot on Linda’s settee by her soundly sleeping five year old. Though Heather had been light to carry, Paul had to say that she was a rather efficient dead weight. “You let me fall asleep?” 

Linda ran her fingers through his hair. “Paul, you and Heather were both exhausted. So you took a nap. There’s no crime in that.” 

He was mortified. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I shouldn’t have been tired.” 

“Why are you apologising?” She asked him. Heather curled closer to him, still soundly asleep. Her hand that wasn’t still holding his was held to her mouth, and he could tell that she was sucking her thumb. “You were tired, Paul, it’s fine.” 

“I’m not supposed to get tired, Lin,” he insisted. “It’s not allowed. I’m supposed to be on all the time, y’know. I can’t be giving in to a momentary lapse of exhaustion.” 

“A momentary lapse?” She echoed, and he could hear the hint of disbelief in her tone. “Paul, you and Heather have been asleep for over two hours. You needed the rest, and so does she. It’s okay for you to be tired. It doesn’t make you any less of a man, or whatever you’ve been told it might.” She shook her head. “So, what, you don’t sleep at all?” 

“I sleep!” He insisted. He made sure to keep his voice down out of deference to little Heather, who was snoring. “Not as much as I should, y’know, but I do sleep. It’s just that I usually help myself out with a bump or two of coke,” he admitted. “I haven’t done that lately because I’ve been with you, and because I didn’t want to have that stuff around Heather.” He sighed. “A bit of grass is one thing, that’s easy enough to explain to a child, but I didn’t want her to know that I’ve ever done any of that, or to see it, or anything.” 

“I don’t care that you’ve done cocaine,” Linda told him. “I’m not naive, Paul. I know what people get up to. I just don’t think that you should be using it as a substitute for sleeping regularly. Thank you for not bringing it around Heather, though,” she added. 

“I wouldn’t do it around her,” he said. “I wouldn’t do anything around her that you don’t want me to, y’know?” He shifted slightly. Heather let out a loud snore. “I didn’t mean for her to fall asleep on me,” he added. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” she said. “I don’t mind that she is. I want her to be comfortable with you.” He heard her sigh. “I mean, you don’t mind, do you? If you mind, I’ll put her to bed.” 

“No, I don’t mind,” he promised. Paul really didn’t mind Heather choosing to fall asleep on him, in fact, he was awfully flattered by it. “You think she likes me?” 

“Of course she likes you,” she told him. “She’s still holding your hand, isn’t she?”   
  


Paul smiled at that. “Yeah, she’s holding me hand.” He glanced up at Linda, his head pillowed on her lap. “She’s really been napping with me the whole time?” 

“Yeah, the whole time.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’ve been watching the television,” Linda told him, and Paul shifted his head so that he could glance at the television set. 

“I haven’t seen American telly in a long time,” he told her. “Cor, it was brilliant though, when we’d be stuck watching it in our hotel rooms. The programmes were always so bloody daft.” He grinned at her. “I reckon that you’d feel the same way about our programmes, though, y’know? Since you’ve grown up with Yank telly?” 

“Are you planning on bringing us to London anytime soon?” She asked him, and he felt her fingers start to massage his scalp once more. “So we can see this fabled British telly?” 

“I dunno,” he said, his tone honest. “Is coming to London something you’d be interested in?” 

“Of course it is,” she said. “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“It’s a bit of a drag, to be honest with you,” Paul told her, and he sighed. “I mean, I’d love to have you and Heather there with me, y’know, but lately the sessions have been so exhausting, it doesn’t seem to make much sense to me, y’know, dragging you out for weeks on end when I can just fly out here every weekend to see you.”

Heather stirred. “Fly out from where?” He heard her whisper, her voice somewhat muffled by her thumb. 

“Mum and I were talking about how we’re going to be able to see each other,” Paul explained. “I was just telling her that I didn’t have a problem with flying out here to see the two of you every weekend, y’know. I work an awful lot during the week, and I’d hate for you to be hanging round me house bored to tears.” 

“But you have a doggie,” Heather pointed out. “And  _ six _ moggies. That’s what they’re called, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “Very good, Heather. You’re a quick learner.” 

She grinned at him. “Mommy, can I put on my tiger clothes?” 

“Of course you can,” Linda said. “You want to show Uncle Paul what a good tiger you are?” 

Heather nodded. “I’m the best tiger. The biggest big moggy.” 

Paul grinned at Heather. “I’d love to see it,” he said. “Go on, you put it on and you come back and show me, okay?” 

Heather scrambled off Paul’s lap and scampered off in the direction of what he assumed to be her room. This left him alone with Linda. Not that Paul minded that. He pulled himself up to a seated position, and took her hand in his. 

“If you want to come to London with me,” he said, “I’d really like that. But I don’t want to tear you and Heather away from your home on a whim, Lin, y’know. That’d be a lot to ask of a five year old, and of you. I want to do this right.” 

Linda let out a sigh. “No, you’re right,” she said after a moment. “It wouldn’t be fair on Heather to uproot her so suddenly. You’d be willing to come here every weekend?” 

Paul licked his lips. “Yeah, Lin, every weekend. Whenever I can.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t mind coming out to visit you at all,” he said. “If that’s what you and Heather want, y’know.” He nuzzled her neck. “She’s brilliant, y’know. She’s brilliant, just like her mummy.” 

“You think I’m brilliant?” 

“Yeah, I think you’re brilliant,” he told her. “A brilliant mum, a brilliant photographer, and a brilliant woman in the bedroom.” He lowered his voice for the last comment, mindful of the fact that he could hear the sounds of a bedroom door opening and closing. Heather’s footsteps could be heard as they pounded down the hallway. 

“Guess what, Uncle Paul?” She demanded of him, as she came to a stop in front of him and Linda. “Guess what I am?” 

“Well, I dunno, luv,” he admitted, and he gave her a bashful grin. “I assume that you’re Heather.” 

“I  _ am _ Heather,” she said. “But I’m also a tiger moggy. Doesn’t it look real?” 

“Cor, a tiger moggy,” he said. “How did I miss that? You look very much like a tiger, sweetheart.” 

Heather beamed. “When you let us visit you in English Muffin, can I scare your friends?” 

Paul thought that was a brilliant idea. “Of course you can,” he said. “But at first I’m going to come here to see ye, okay?” 

“Why?”

“Because, y’know, I like it here,” he said. “I get to be with you and your mum, and I get to escape London, y’know, all of that.” 

“You like it here?” Heather asked him. She scrambled up onto his lap. Paul didn’t mind. “Why do you have to go home then?” 

Paul sighed. “I’ve got to go back to work, y’know,” he said. “We’ve been working on a new record, and I can’t leave them alone to it, even if I want to.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “If I did that nothing would ever get done.” He sighed. “Plus I have to get Martha from me dad’s,” he told her. “She wouldn’t like it very much if I left her there, y’know? She wants to be home with me. If I have her in London, me mates can watch her when I come here.” 

Heather’s lower lip wavered, and Paul felt like his heart could possibly break. He hadn’t meant to upset the girl. He’d only been trying to explain. 

“Heather--”

“But I don’t  _ want _ you to leave,” Heather blurted, barreling over Linda’s attempts to comfort her. “It’s not fair. You just got here and you have to go back to English Muffin?”   


“Paul’s not going back until tomorrow,” Linda interjected. “He’s going to spend the night.” 

“I reckon I can spend two nights, y’know, if that’s what you want?” Paul offered. He hated to see Heather upset, and he was more than a bit annoyed at the fact that he had to go back to London at all. “Would you, Heather?” 

“Please?” She whispered. “I want you to stay.” 

“What do you think, Lin?” Paul asked her. He realised that he should have asked her before, but he hadn’t thought that aspect through. He hoped she wouldn’t mind. “Will you have me for two nights instead of the one?” He reached up and stroked her cheek. 

“I don’t mind you staying an extra night,” she said. “Paul’s going to come here every weekend,” she told Heather, who had stopped sniffling and had settled on his lap, facing him. “How does that sound?” 

“I want him to come,” she said. “Every weekend?” 

“Yeah, duck, every weekend,” he told her. “I promise. Nothing would stop me from coming to see you, and your mum.” 

“And you have to fly on a scary plane?” Heather questioned. 

He nodded. “But, I don’t mind doing it,” he assured her. She stared up at him with wide eyes. “Y’know, because that’s what you do for people you love. You do things that scare you.” 

Paul wasn’t scared of flying on planes. He was, however, terrified of telling Heather that he loved her, and he had just let it slip out. 

“I love you, too, Uncle Paul,” she said after a moment. “You’re gonna come every week on a scary plane to see us.” 

“Course I am,” he said, as he tried to will his heart rate back to normal. “Every week, I promise. If you want, I’ll even call you at bedtime when I’m in London and read you goodnight stories and sing you a goodnight song. Would you like that?” 

Heather nodded. “You  _ promise _ every night?” 

“Honey, Paul might be too busy,” Linda said. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.” 

“No, Lin, I promise, I’ll call her every night,” he said. “I’m not going to be too busy, y’know. It’s quite late for me, so I’ll set me alarms for it. I want to. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.” 

“Well, okay,” Linda told him. “Is that something you’d like Hettie?” 

“Yes,” she said. “I want goodnight stories and goodnight songs, even if it’s over the phone.” 

“Your mum calls you Hettie?” Paul asked her, as she stretched out so that she was on both Linda’s and his laps. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Can you read me goodnight stories and sing me goodnight songs here?” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” he said. “When Mummy says it’s time for you to settle in for the night.” 

“Not now,” she said. “It’s too early. The sun is still awake and we haven’t had pizza!”

He chuckled. “You’re looking forward to pizza, aren’t you?” 

“It’s my favourite,” she said. “Tigers love pizza. It makes them grow big and strong.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, kitten, eventually we’re coming back to London,” he told her. “Would you be okay with that?” 
> 
> “So we can be with your moggies?” 
> 
> “Cor, and me animals on the farm, and me job--”
> 
> “I don’t like your job,” Heather interjected, an edge evident in her tone. “It makes you have to go.”

“I don’t understand why he’s on the bloody telephone all the time,” Ringo heard John say, and he looked in the direction of the guitarist and his omnipresent girlfriend, and over in the direction that John was angrily pointing at. Paul could be seen in the studio’s control room, and he was indeed on the telephone. “Doesn’t he realise what an imposition that is?” 

“What are you talking about?” Ringo asked him. “What does it matter to you if Paul takes a telephone call in the control room? It’s not like he’s having it in here.” 

“Only because he said Yoko’s behaviour while he was on the telephone was ‘inappropriate’,” John told him, a decided edge to his tone. “I don’t understand why he didn’t want her to sing. He was the one who started playing the bloody guitar. I thought we were rehearsing!”   
  


“Perhaps Paul doesn’t consider Yoko to be a member of this band,” Ringo said, feeling rather emboldened. He didn’t normally raise his tone to John, choosing instead to leave dealing with the increasingly acidic man to Paul, but he was tired of having to deal with Yoko. “I mean, that would make sense, given that I certainly don’t.” 

“So you’re on his side?” John demanded. “Why? Because I don’t like that bloody American bint he took to Los Angeles with him? That was supposed to be  _ my _ ticket, and the wanker wouldn’t let Yoko go with us, so I told him to tear it up. Come to find out he gives it to that bloody photographer?” 

“Oh, come off it, John,” George said, from his position on the floor. “It gets him off our arses about the bloody record when he goes off to New York every weekend, doesn’t it?” 

“Have you even met Paul’s girlfriend?” Ringo asked. “John?” 

“Obviously, I’ve bloody met her,” he sneered. “She came round to Brian’s to take photographs of us for Pepper. This one went all gooey eyed for her. She was in New York, too. Came for our ride to the airport. Doesn’t mean I have to like her, does it? It’s not like he bothers to like Yoko!”   
  


The door to the recording studio opened to reveal George Martin, and their producer shut the door behind him, scanning the room for what Ringo assumed was some signs that they’d been working. They  _ had _ been working. George and Paul had been helping him with the song he’d been writing, at least until John and Yoko had shown up, and Paul had stalked up to the control room to receive  _ another _ phone call. 

“Where is McCartney?” He demanded. “Has he left again?” 

“He’s on the telephone,” Ringo said. “Why does it matter to you? You haven’t been here all morning, why the bloody hell shouldn’t he be on the phone? Leave him alone.” 

“I just want to know why you aren’t working on anything--”   


“We’re not working on anything because John showed up with  _ her _ and picked a fight with Paul,” George said, and Ringo watched him roll his eyes. “So Paul went up and called up his American bird.”

“Again?”

“Oh, come off it,” he continued. Ringo blinked. “I don’t get you, you know? You let John bring Yoko into every recording session even though you know she drives us absolutely barmy, but you dare to criticise Paul for being on the bloody telephone? I’ve met that bird, you know. There’s no way she’s half as aggravating as Yoko is. I don’t think she’d be demanding to sit in on our sessions, or trying to add her contributions to our recordings. She certainly gets him away from the studio any chance she gets, so he can stop whinging about us never doing a bloody thing.” 

Ringo could admit that Paul had been somewhat high strung lately, but someone had to be. John couldn’t be bothered to show up for the studio time they’d booked, and had insisted on everyone following his lead and booking it for strange hours. It had almost been a relief when Paul had returned from his trip abroad and insisted that they weren’t going to be in the studio for 20 hours a day anymore. 

Ringo had a life. He had a family. He wanted to get more than two hours of sleep a night. 

“And where have you been?” He demanded of George Martin. “We’ve been here since half nine this morning. We told you that we’d booked the studio until five, did you think we were having a laugh?” 

“I know that you said that, but--”

“But what? We’ve been rehearsing earlier and earlier,” he pointed out. “Mainly because Yoko kept interrupting whatever business Paul is trying to conduct on the telephone and it was pissing him off,” he admitted. “It’s still been happening. Just because John and Yoko stay in the studio until the early hours of the day doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m going to go up and join Paul.” 

Ringo knew that there was a chance that Paul was going to be upset that he’d joined him, but he decided that he was okay with taking that risk. He’d rather be given the silent treatment by Paul than listen to whatever excuses George Martin was going to come up with. The truth was that Ringo was rather fed up with the band. He’d gone off to Sardina and come back, but sometimes he wished that he hadn’t. 

The door to the control room had been left ajar, and Ringo peered into the room. Paul was sat on the chair closest to the telephone, a pile of children’s books beside him. He was clearly -- despite John’s obnoxious protests to the contrary -- talking to a child, and not the woman that John had decided was to be deemed public enemy number one.

“...and that’s all there is, there isn’t any more,” he said into the telephone, and he watched him place the book beside the others. “Is it really your favourite, Hettie? Did I do a good job?” 

* * *

  
  
  


Paul heard Heather giggle on the other end of the telephone line, and he relaxed himself incrementally. “The  _ best _ job, Uncle Paul,” she insisted. “You read the best stories, even when they’re not goodnight time stories.” 

“Well, y’know, I’ve got to get me practice in somehow,” he told her. “How’s your mummy? Is she feeling any better?” 

“Uh huh, she said that you’re going to come visit us soon,” Heather told him. “Are you going to stay for a long time?”

“Yeah, y’know, I reckon I am,” he said, and he twisted the cord to the telephone with his fingers. “Would you like that, kitten? If I stayed and hung ‘round for longer?” 

“Are you gonna bring Martha?” 

Paul didn’t want John to be in charge of Martha for anything longer than the two days he currently trusted him with her, and he nodded, before recognising that Heather couldn’t see his reaction. “Yeah, Mum said that it was okay, so I thought you’d like it if I brought her. You do want me to, yeah?” 

“Uh huh, I want to meet her.” 

“I think she’d like to meet you too,” he said. “Did Mummy tell you that I’m coming tonight?” 

Paul heard someone make a shocked noise from the direction of the doorway, and he narrowed his eyes, hoping to inspire fear in the intruder. All he’d wanted was a few moments peace while he spoke with Linda and Heather, and if John or Yoko had interrupted him, he was going to express his displeasure with his fists. 

Unfortunately for Paul’s anger, his visitor was Ringo. Paul really wasn’t mad at Ringo, even though he’d tried to be. He reluctantly waved him over. 

“Mommy  _ did _ tell me that you were coming today, Uncle Paul!” Heather squealed directly into his ear. “That you’re going to come even though it’s the middle of the week, and that you’re going to stay forever.” 

Paul licked his lips. “Well, kitten, eventually we’re coming back to London,” he told her. “Would you be okay with that?” 

“So we can be with your moggies?” 

“Cor, and me animals on the farm, and me job--”

“I don’t  _ like _ your job,” Heather interjected, an edge evident in her tone. “It makes you have to go.”

Paul let out a sigh. “I know that you don’t like it,” he told her. “I know that you don’t like how I can’t stay in New York with you and your mum in your flat, even though I really want to, but if you and your mum come here with me, I’ll still see you, even when I have to work.” 

“Every day?” 

“Yeah, duck, I’ll be there in the morning when you get up, and I’ll be home in time for tea...I mean supper. Maybe if you’re well behaved I’ll bring you here, to the studio.” 

Ringo’s eyes widened at his comment. Paul merely smirked, and he lit up a smoke. 

“Will they be nice to me?” Heather questioned, her voice incredibly small. He felt like his heart would break. “Uncle Paul? Will your friends be nice to me?” 

“Why do you think that they wouldn’t?” 

“They were mean when you read me goodnight stories when you were at work that time,” she recounted. “So loud and it was scary.” 

“Would you like to talk to one of me mates?” He offered. “Ringo’s here, if you’d like to talk to him, I’m sure that he’d like to say hi to you.” 

“Did Mommy take his picture too?”

“Yes, Mummy did,” he said. “It’s okay, Hettie, he wasn’t the one who was loud and scary. I promise.” 

Heather let out a quiet sigh. “Okay, Dad--I mean, Uncle Paul. I want to say hi.” 

Paul didn’t want to call attention to the fact that Heather had almost called him daddy, even though it had made him happy to hear it. He didn’t care what she thought of him, whether she wanted him to be her father or not was going to be her choice, even if he and Linda got married. 

He loved her, and he wanted to be her dad, but he didn’t want to force anything on her that she didn’t want. Even if being called Uncle Paul in perpetuity would end up breaking his heart. 

“Care to say hi to my Heather?” Paul asked Ringo. “She’s me baby’s baby, y’know? Linda’s daughter.” 

He brandished the phone out to Ringo. “Oh,” Ringo said. “Hullo, Heather.” 

“Hi Ringo,” Heather said. Paul could hear her through the receiver. “Uncle Paul says that you sing my favourite song.” 

“I do?” 

“Uh-huh,” she said. “The one from the movie! I mean picture. Uncle Paul calls them pictures. Have you met Martha? And Uncle Paul’s moggies?” 

“Oh, do you mean Yellow Submarine?” Ringo asked her. Heather cheerily answered in the affirmative. “You really like that song?” 

“Uh huh,” she said. “Da-Uncle Paul says that you did a good job on it. That I should say you--I mean tell you--that I like it.” 

Ringo flushed. “Thank you, Heather.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Have you met Martha?” 

“Yes, I’ve met Martha,” he said. “Have you?” 

“No, not yet,” she said. “Uncle Paul said that she’s going to come with him to see us tonight, though,” she informed him. “She’s so brave. I would be so scared on the airplane. I don’t know why Uncle Paul isn’t. He comes to see us  _ every _ weekend.” 

“Ah, you like that, don’t you?” 

“Uh huh,” she said. “I don’t like when he goes back to English Muffin. I miss him.” 

“But you said that he’s coming to visit you today, isn’t he?” Ringo asked her. 

“Yes! For a long time. A few weeks!” 

“Well, that’ll be nice, won’t it?” 

“So nice,” she said. “I want to talk to Uncle Paul again.” 

Paul took the phone from Ringo, and he cradled it to his ear. “Hi, kitten,” he said. “I have to get going, okay? I have to finish up here and get ready for my flight.” 

“Okay,” she said. “I love you!”

“I know,” he assured her. “I love you, too. And your mummy. Make sure you give her kisses from me.” 

When he was satisfied that Heather had hung up, he returned the phone to the cradle, before he managed to look Ringo in the eyes. 

“I’m taking a break,” he said. “I can’t do it anymore. I’m exhausted, and it’s not fair on Linda and the kid to have me being coming and going all the bloody time, and for what? We spend hours here doing nothing. Heather would be more productive in the studio than John half the time.” 

He lit up another cigarette. “It’s not only that,” he admitted. “You can’t tell anyone, because we don’t know if it’s a certainty yet, but Linda thinks that she’s pregnant,” he said. “We’ve been fucking like rabbits, we thought that the pill was one hundred proof.” He rolled his eyes. “Turns out that that’s false advertising.” He sighed. “So now I have to go to America to break Heather’s heart. She’s not going to want a bloody thing to do with me if I’ve gotten her mum up the duff.”

“Why do you reckon that?” 

“Because, mate, I’m Uncle Paul,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “So, what, am I meant to be only her uncle while I’m the sprog’s dad? Linda said that I can adopt Heather, y’know, when we get married, but what if she doesn’t want that? Why would she want that?” 

“You’ve spent the last two hours on the telephone with her, reading her stories,” Ringo told him. “Did you really read her all of those? Where did you get them?”   
  


“They’re her favourites,” he admitted. “I bought them. Gave the clerks at the bookstore something to talk about. Linda’s feeling poorly, so I reckoned I’d give her a bit of a break, especially once Yoko stepped up to a microphone and started to shriek.” He shook his head. “I don’t want--when my dad told me that he’d gotten married to Angie and that he’d adopted her daughter, I didn’t handle it very well,” he said. “I don’t like how she tries to mother me and I didn’t appreciate the fact that I had a very much present sister who I suddenly had to include in my life. I don’t want Heather to feel the way that I felt.” 

Ringo sighed. “Well, Paul, of course that was going to upset you,” he said. “There’s a difference between what happened with your father and Angie and how a...how old is she?” 

“Five,” Paul told him. 

“How a five year old is going to react,” he said. “Does Heather even know her father?” 

Paul shook his head. “He’s a wanker. When Linda was pregnant with her he ran off to Africa.” 

“So, you’re the only father she’s ever known. Okay, maybe she’s not ready to call you dad yet,” he allowed. “But you’re still the one who’s going to be there for her in that type of role. Even if Linda’s pregnant and you marry her. Do you want to adopt Heather?” 

“Of course I do,” he whispered. “More than anything. I don’t want to make her feel obligated, y’know? Like she has to agree to it? I’d feel so guilty.” 

“She sounds like she loves you,” he pointed out. 

Paul managed a grin. “I think she does love me,” he said. “I hope so, y’know, because I fucking love her.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh huh,” she said. “Mommy said Grandpa is wrong and daddies aren’t bad. I want to call you Daddy.” 
> 
> Paul met Linda’s gaze. “Well, grandpas can say silly things sometimes,” he said, and he kissed Heather’s forehead. “I’ve never been a daddy before, but I’d love to be yours, y’know, if you’ll have me.” 

“Are we really going to go to the airport to get Uncle Paul?” Heather asked her mom hopefully, having noticed that her mother seemed to be getting ready to leave their apartment. “Mommy?” 

“I thought that would be a nice surprise for him,” her mom told her. “You know, since he’s going to be spending a few weeks here, instead of just a couple of days? He probably needs our help with his luggage.” 

Heather wanted to go to the airport to get Uncle Paul, even though she was embarrassed that she had almost called him daddy -- not once, but twice -- when they were on the telephone earlier. She hadn’t meant to. It had just slipped out. She hoped that he hadn’t noticed. 

“He read me so much stories earlier, Mommy,” she gushed, and she reached out to grab hold of Linda’s hand. “When you were napping.” 

“So many, sweetie, not so much,” she said. “That was nice of him.” 

“Uh huh,” she agreed. “Can I bring Abbey with us?” 

Heather loved the stuffed grizzly bear that Uncle Paul had brought home for her the first day that they’d met, and she slept with it every night. Her mommy would always tuck the bear in beside her, and it had fast become her most precious toy. Heather had some other toys, of course. Even though they weren’t very rich, her mommy made sure she had things to play with. But, Abbey was especially special to Heather, because she had come from Paul. 

“Do you want to bring her?” 

She nodded. “Please, Mommy? I won’t lose her. Uncle Paul gave her to me.” 

Mommy smiled at her. Heather grinned back. She liked when her mom was happy. 

“You like Paul, don’t you?” 

“I love him,” Heather said softly, and she became rather interested in the ground. “Mommy, is that okay?” 

“Is what okay?” 

“That I love him?” She glanced up at her for a moment, before returning her gaze to her shoes. “Because, I do. He’s nice to me and he spends time with me,” she said. “He calls me every night when he’s in English Muffin to read me a goodnight story and sing me a song.” 

“Of course it’s okay for you to love Paul, Heather,” her mom told her, and she knelt down so that she was eye level with Heather. “Paul loves you very much, sweetheart. That’s why he comes over from England every weekend to see us, and that’s why he calls and reads you goodnight stories.” She felt her kiss the top of her forehead. “Is something bothering you?” 

“Is Uncle Paul going to be my daddy?” 

Heather hadn’t meant to ask her mom that question, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from blurting it out. 

“Do you want Uncle Paul to be your daddy?” 

She nodded. “I do! But, I don’t know,” she said. She worried her lower lip. “I don’t want him to stop reading me goodnight stories and I don’t want him to stop playing with me and singing me songs.” She tilted her head up, and met Linda’s gaze. “Grandpa talks all the time about how he’s stuck watching me when you work because my useless dad left us.” 

“Oh, did Grandpa?” Mommy asked her. “Heather, did he say anything else in front of you that he shouldn’t have?” 

Heather told her mother everything that her grandfather had been saying when he’d thought that she’d hadn’t been listening, and she watched as Linda started to appear as if she had a headache. She’d also paled to an impressive degree. 

“...and I don’t want Uncle Paul to stop doing all the stuff that he does because he’s my dad,” she finished, and she wrapped her arms around her mom, pleased when Linda pulled herself to a stand, and took Heather with her. “Do you think he will?” 

“Your grandfather told you a lie,” her mom said after a moment. “I’m sorry that watching you so I could work and make a damn living was such an inconvenience to him. Your father...Mel...first of all, Heather, he’s made it so that he’s  _ not _ your father anymore, so what he did isn’t of any consequence. Second of all, if you want to consider Paul to be your dad...I think it would make him really happy. He’s not going to stop loving you because you want him to be your father.”

Heather laid her head against Linda’s chest. “You think he’d be happy? If I called him that?” 

“Yes,” she said. “You want to?” 

Heather nodded. “I do want to,” she said. “Can we go to the airport now?”

“Why don’t you go get Abbey, and then we’ll go, okay? I just have to take a moment in the bathroom.” 

Heather was a dutiful child, and she let her mom place her on the floor of the kitchen, before she practically sprinted in the direction of the bathroom. She knew that her mom hadn’t been feeling very well lately, but she’d been assured that it wasn’t anything for her to worry about, and that Mommy wasn’t sick. She’d decided to believe her. Mommy was the smartest person that Heather knew. 

She grabbed Abbey from her spot beside her pillow, and she skipped out of her bedroom, pleased that Mommy was on the couch, and looking entirely less green. 

“Are you okay?” She fretted, as she crawled up onto her lap. “Mommy?” 

“I’m okay, sweetie,” she said, and she ruffled her hair. “Are you ready to go to the airport?” 

Heather nodded. Going to the airport was exciting. Normally Uncle Paul -- well, she guessed that he was her dad now -- came from the airport to their apartment all on his own, especially since it was often close to her bedtime when his plane arrived. She was pleased that her mom had told him that they were going to meet him there. Even though it was close to bedtime, Heather knew that she could behave herself. 

“Abbey and I will be good,” she told her, and she clasped her hand in hers. “I can’t wait to see Daddy.” 

“I know, sweetie,” she said. “I can’t wait to see him either.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“...and here we are at Kennedy Airport,” Paul heard as he woke up with a sudden start, while Martha stared up at him from her position on the floor of the airplane. He had clearly spent the entirety of the flight asleep, and his traveling companion deeply disapproved. “Thank you for flying with British Airways.” 

He stifled a yawn. “I’m sorry, Martha,” he said, and he gave her a pat, shouldering his carryon luggage and taking her by the lead. “I didn’t mean to sleep the entire time. That must not have been fun for you.” 

Paul was exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed beside Linda and go to sleep, but he was determined to not let his exhaustion show when he saw Heather. He didn’t want her to worry about him. He was fine, of course, just a little tired, but Linda had warned him that Heather had noticed that she wasn’t feeling very well. He didn’t want to add to her stress, simply because he hadn’t been sleeping properly. 

Being a Beatle meant that getting through the dreadful parts of flying to the airport were a breeze, and he soon found himself loaded down with the baggage he’d checked, and headed in the direction of where he’d told Linda that he’d meet them. 

It was possible that he had underestimated the effects that quitting coke cold turkey would have on him, but it was too late to remedy that now, wasn’t it? He certainly wasn’t going to peel off into the loo to have a sniff, even if he had any on him, which he didn’t. He’d left that at home. 

He forced himself to push his exhaustion aside. The important thing was that he was there in the States, and there to support Linda with whatever was happening to her. Whether it was a baby, or not. 

Paul really hoped that it was a baby. He knew that they hadn’t been together very long, and most people wouldn’t have been keen on accidentally impregnating their new girlfriend, but he desperately wanted to be a dad. Maybe if there was a baby involved Heather would want him to be her dad, instead of merely her uncle. 

Paul was abruptly drawn from his thoughts when he felt the full weight of an excited five year old slam into him, accompanied by a series of giggles. 

“Well, hullo, duckie,” he said softly, and he lifted her up into his arms. “What a nice greeting you’ve given me. You’d think we hadn’t seen each other three days ago.” 

“I missed you,” Heather said, and she giggled as he planted a kiss on her cheek. “Did you miss me?” 

“Of course. I did miss you.” He smiled over at Linda, who had had to catch up to Heather. “I missed you, too, luv.” 

“I’m glad that you’re here,” Linda told him, and she leaned in to give him a kiss. “Let me take Martha’s leash for you.” 

Martha -- always an agreeable dog -- went along with this. Paul returned his attention to Heather. 

“What have you been up to since we spoke earlier?” He asked her. “Have you been giving your mummy any trouble?” 

Heather shook her head. “No,” she said, and she gazed at him, her expression bashful. “I’ve been good, Daddy, honest. I have been.” 

“Do ye want to call me that?” He asked her, and he struggled to maintain his composure. Heather nodded. “Ye want me to be your daddy?” 

“Uh huh,” she said. “Mommy said Grandpa is wrong and daddies aren’t bad. I want to call you Daddy.” 

Paul met Linda’s gaze. “Well, grandpas can say silly things sometimes,” he said, and he kissed Heather’s forehead. “I’ve never been a daddy before, but I’d love to be yours, y’know, if you’ll have me.” 

He felt himself get misty-eyed, and he was tempted to blame it on the withdrawal, but he knew that was a copout. 

“Paul?” Linda asked. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m brilliant,” he said. “I want to be her daddy.” He turned his attention to Heather. “I want to be your daddy.” 

“So it’s okay that you’re crying?” Heather questioned. “You’re not sad?” 

He shook his head. “No, I’m not sad,” he whispered. “I’m happy, duckie. I love you.” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not upset, y’know,” he said, and she felt him cover her hand with his. “I mean, yeah, I’m fucking terrified, but I’m not angry at ye for being pregnant, Lin. I’ve certainly been enjoying the actions that could have lead to the pregnancy, y’know?” 
> 
> “You’re not the only one.” She admitted, and she grinned. “Are you really staying?” 
> 
> “Yeah, Lin, of course I’m staying,” he whispered. “I’m not going to up and leave you. You need me here, to help you with Heather, and they can just learn how to get on with things amongst themselves.” 

“What’s the matter with you?” Paul heard Linda ask him as they sat down on the bench outside of the airport to wait for a taxi. Heather was sprawled out in front of them, thoroughly engrossed in showing Martha her stuffed bear. “Are you feeling all right? You look terrible.” 

“I’m just knackered, y’know,” he said, and he nestled his head on her shoulder. “All I’ve done is gotten off coke,” he added, his tone barely above a whisper. 

“What?” She asked him. “You mean you’re cutting back?” 

He shook his head. “No, I mean that I’m done with it,” he said, and he clasped her hand. “I meant it, y’know, what I said on the phone. When I told you that I was going to do anything for you, for our little girl.” He smiled at the sight of Heather and Martha. He was pleased that they were getting along. “For the y’know,” he added. He didn’t want to say the word out loud. Not with Heather there. He didn’t want her to think there was going to be a baby and end up disappointed if Linda’s doctor said that she wasn’t pregnant. 

“I understand that you meant it,” she told him. “But what do you mean, you’re done with it?” 

“That I’ve quit,” he told her. “Cold turkey.” 

Linda gave him an incredulous look. “You did what? All of it? Cold turkey?” 

He yawned. “Yeah, why? What’s wrong with that?” He shrugged his shoulders. “You told me that you wanted me to kick the Coke if I wanted to consider myself Heather’s father,” he said after a moment. “I do consider her to be my daughter. So, y’know, it seemed natural to me to get it done, and not screw around, y’know?” 

“I was going to help you,” she pointed out. “You’re withdrawing.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“I’m fine, Lin, I’m just tired,” he said. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ve had a long day, y’know.” 

So what if he was withdrawing? He could handle it on his own. He didn’t need to worry her over something so stupid. 

Heather glanced up at them. “If you’re tired, you should go to bed when we get home,” she told him. “Mommy will probably make you.” 

“We’re all going to bed when we get home,” Linda said. “I’m exhausted, and it’s way past your bedtime, young lady.” Paul watched as Heather shot her a grin. “I let you stay up late to meet your father at the airport, didn’t I?” 

Heather nodded. “Yes, thank you, Mommy,” she said. “But why do I have a bedtime? Daddy doesn’t.”

“Well, me job has me working odd hours,” Paul said, as he tried to explain why he didn’t have a bedtime to his five year old, who was idly petting Martha’s fur, her gaze entirely fixated on him. “So when I’m working and I’m alone at home, back in England, there’s really not much point of me trying to set a bedtime, y’know? If I ever tried, we’d end up recording during it. But, since we’re here, and I’m not recording, I do have a bedtime. Mummy and I both have one, don’t we, Mummy?” 

He gave Linda’s hand a squeeze. 

“Of course we do,” she said. “And we’re going to bed as soon as we get home, even if you’re not tired, Heather. Paul and I can read you a story, and you can cuddle with us if you want, but you’re going to sleep.” 

Heather wrinkled her nose. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” She directed her question at Paul. “I mean, I want to,” she said. “But it’s okay if you don’t.” 

“That’s up to your mummy,” he said in response. “Lin…?”

Paul didn’t want to tell Heather that it was okay for her to spend the night with them and inadvertently undo five years of parenting, just because she was calling him Dad now and seemed to actually consider him worthy of such an honour. He really wasn’t. He knew that he was a fuck up. That Heather would recognise that eventually, no matter how hard he tried. 

“Yeah, Heather, you can spend the night with us,” Linda told her. Heather grinned. “You have to actually go to sleep, though, Daddy’s tired. It’s much later in England than it is for us here.” 

“Okay,” she agreed, and she pulled herself to her feet. “Look, I see a cab.” 

Paul squinted in the direction she was pointing in, and he recognised the now-familiar signs of the yellow taxicabs that New York was known for off in the distance. He grinned at her. “That’s a good job, noticing that, kitten,” he said. “You’re very smart.” 

“You think so?” 

He nodded. “Sure I do. I wouldn’t have noticed the taxi until it was right in front of us.” 

Heather giggled. “That’s cause you have your sunglasses on. It’s nighttime, silly. How can you see things?” 

“That’s what I’ve got you and Mum for,” he said. “I can’t take ‘em off. People’d notice me.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “I don’t want that. You said you didn’t work here.” 

“That’s right, kitten, but they don’t realise that,” he told her, and he sat himself upright. He reluctantly relinquished Linda’s hand. “And I don’t expect them to realise it, y’know, because why would they? They think that I work all the time.” He sighed. “That’d be boring, wouldn’t it? Me working all the time?” 

“So boring,” Heather said. “Daddy? Why does that woman at your work yell so much?” 

Paul sighed. “I dunno,” he told her. “She’s one of John’s mates, not mine. I don’t like her very much, y’know, so I try my best to ignore her.” 

“Can I go to work with you?” Heather asked him, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know that I could!”   
  


“I’ll have to talk to your mum about it,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think that you’d like it very much.”

“And it doesn’t matter right now, because Daddy’s here to spend time with us,” Linda interjected. “So we can discuss it more when the time comes for us to go to England.” 

“Okay,” she agreed. “Mommy said that we’re going to go with you when you go back to English Muffin,” she told him. “That we’re going to live with you, and all your moggies, and your farm animals, and--”

“Cor, it’s going to be brilliant,” he told her, and he pushed himself to a stand. “Duckie, the car’s here. We don’t want to keep him waiting.” 

“Daddy, up,” Heather demanded. “Please?” 

“After I get me luggage sorted,” he told her. “You can sit on me lap, okay? When we get in the car?” 

“Okay,” she said. He watched her yawn. “Will you read me a goodnight story when we get home?” 

He reached out and ruffled her hair. “Don’t I always?” She nodded. “Of course I will. I had so much fun practising with you earlier.” 

The cab driver had propped open the boot of the cab, and Paul set to work getting his luggage into the boot. He was well aware of the presence of his attentive shadow. Heather seemed to be content to hold on to Abbey with one hand, and the leg of his trousers with the other.

“Are you helping your dad?” The cab driver asked Heather, who stared up at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s been a long day,” he told him. “She’s tired. We just want to get home.” Paul lowered his sunglasses for a moment, purposely making eye contact with the man. “She’s sorted, I don’t need you to try to engage her in conversation, y’know?”

“I was just tryin’ to be polite--”   
  


“She’s my kid,” he said. “She’s shy, so you ought to back off. She doesn’t have to answer to ye.” 

He waited until the cabbie got back into the car before he resumed loading up his luggage. Heather remained at his side, while Linda and Martha had already settled into the cab. He offered Heather what he hoped was an encouraging smile. 

“I’m sorry about that, Heather,” he whispered, and he patted the top of her head. “You don’t like when strangers talk to you, do you?”   
  


She shook her head. “No,” she said. “Did he really think you’re my dad?” 

“It seems like he did,” he told her, and he squatted down so that he was eye level with her. “That’s what you want, right?” 

“Uh huh,” she said. “You brought a lot of stuff.” 

“Well, I reckon that I don’t know how long I’m going to be staying here for,” he said, and he loaded the last suitcase into the boot, and shut it. “So I figured I’d plan for every eventuality, y’know? Come on, duck. Let’s get into the cab so we can head home. Mummy needs to rest.” 

“She’s not feeling very well,” Heather informed him, her tone solemn. “I think she has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“I don’t understand what my father was thinking,” Linda groused, as she paced back and forth in the kitchen of her apartment. Paul was sat at the kitchen table, eating the breakfast she’d made for him, and at least appeared to be listening to her. “Why would he say those things to Heather?” 

“Sounds like he’s being a wanker,” Paul supplied, once he had swallowed the food in his mouth. “Did he say them to Heather or did she just hear them?” 

“I don’t care what precisely happened,” she said, the exhaustion she felt evident in her tone. “I won’t have my father saying things like that, not to Heather, nor in her presence. Just because she’s young doesn’t mean she doesn’t understand what she’s hearing.” She pursed her lips. “I want to take her with us today.” 

“To your doctor’s appointment?” Paul asked her. She nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that,” he said. “I don’t necessarily want her going round to your dad’s now, either, y’know? I may have only been her father for less than a day,” he added. “But, even if she wasn’t wanting to call me that, he shouldn’t have been rude to her.” 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Linda asked him. “Will you share?” 

She settled down at the table beside him, eying him critically. He didn't look bad for someone who had foolishly quit whatever drugs he’d been taking essentially on a whim. 

Paul had brought a carton of cigarettes with him from London, and he’d been steadily making his way through a new pack since they’d woken up. Still, he nodded, and slid the pack over to her. 

“Don’t mind sharing with you,” he told her. “You want me to give you a light?” 

She held the cigarette up so he could light it, his hands shaking slightly. Whether it was nerves or due to the withdrawals, that she didn’t know. Still. She brushed her lips against his cheek. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “I’m glad that you came.” 

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “You know that, right, Lin? That I love you.” 

“I know,” she said. “You must love me. You came all the way to New York, all because I think that I’m pregnant.” She sighed. 

“What’s wrong? Do you not feel well?” 

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that,” she said. “I’m sorry, about all of this. I know that it’s not what you signed up for, and--”

“I’m not upset, y’know,” he said, and she felt him cover her hand with his. “I mean, yeah, I’m fucking terrified, but I’m not angry at ye for being pregnant, Lin. I’ve certainly been enjoying the actions that could have lead to the pregnancy, y’know?” 

“You’re not the only one.” She admitted, and she grinned. “Are you really staying?” 

“Yeah, Lin, of course I’m staying,” he whispered. “I’m not going to up and leave you. You need me here, to help you with Heather, and they can just learn how to get on with things amongst themselves.” 

Linda drew in a deep breath. “He’s not wrong,” she said. “Heather doesn’t have a father. I mean, obviously she  _ has _ a father, but he wanted nothing to do with her. Or with me. He left me when I was pregnant with Heather, and my brother had to find him in Africa. When he found him he relinquished his rights to Heather and divorced me.” She shook her head. “So, if you wanted to, you could adopt her.” 

“And she’d really be ours?” Paul asked her. “She’d be mine? Heather McCartney?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, if that’s what you’d want.” 

“Yeah, Lin,” he insisted. “That’d be brilliant. I could be like her proper dad, like.” 

“What are you guys talking about?” Heather asked, her voice filled with sleep, and Linda beckoned her over to them. Heather had gotten herself dressed, in spite of the fact that she had just risen, and Linda was grateful. They needed to be on time for her appointment. “Mommy?” 

“Would you like Paul to be your legal father?” Linda asked Heather, as the little girl settled on her lap. “Is that something you’d like?” 

“What does that mean?” Heather asked, and she stole a piece of Paul’s toast. “He is my dad.” 

“You’d be a McCartney,” Paul told her. “We’d have the same last name.” 

“Okay,” she said. “I’d like that.” 

Linda smiled at her. “I’d like that, too,” she said. “How about you sit with your dad and I put your food on a plate for you?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“I’ll still be Heather, right?” Heather asked her dad, as they waited in the waiting room for her mom to finish her doctor’s appointment. Mommy had insisted that she wanted them there, and Heather had conceded to her whims, mainly because she didn’t want to see her Grandpa Lee. “When you adopt me and make me a McCartney?” 

“Of course, you’ll still be Heather,” he told her. “The only thing that will change is your last name, y’know, and that’s okay. I think that you’re going to be a brilliant McCartney.” He grinned at her. “Me sister will be excited to meet you.” 

“Will she play with me?” 

“I reckon she will,” he told her. “You can show her Abbey, y’know?” 

Heather cradled the bear close. “Abbey is my bear.” 

“Y’know that she won’t take it, Heather. If she does, I’ll sort her.” 

Heather felt somewhat mollified. “I love you, Daddy.” 

“I love you, too,” he said. “I think that we’ll be able to join mummy shortly.” 

“I don’t like the doctor,” she admitted. “Sometimes he gives me a shot.” 

She leaned back against Paul, her head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay to be scared, Hettie, but sometimes you need to get a shot, y’know? He’s not trying to be mean. He wants you to be healthy.” 

“I know,” she admitted, though rather reluctantly. “Do you think Mommy had to get a shot?” 

“No, I reckon she got to avoid shots,” he told her. “I think that mummy’s going to be okay. I know she’s been feeling poorly, lately, and that it’s been scaring you,” he said. “But I don’t think that she’s sick.” 

“Are you sure?” Heather demanded. 

“Mr. McCartney?” The nurse who had brought her mom back to the examination room had returned, and Heather lapsed into silence. She did her best to appear invisible. “You and your daughter can come back now.” 

Heather perked at being referred to as Paul’s daughter, but she merely buried her face against his shirt collar and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, so that he could carry her. There was no need to acknowledge anyone else. 

“Come on, we’ll go see mummy,” he said. “I’ll hold you the entire time. I won’t make you look at the doctor.” 

“Okay,” she whispered. “She called me your daughter.” 

“I know, it’s brilliant, isn’t it?” He asked her, and she felt him brush a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Heather.” 

“I love you, too.” Heather did love him. Not enough to look around the room that they’d arrived in, even though she knew that her mom was close, but she did love him. “Hi, Mommy,” she offered, as she nestled her head against his chest once more. 

“Do you want to sit with me? On the bed?” 

Heather shook her head. “I don’t like doctors,” she whispered. “They’re scary.” 

“What if you sit with me, but on Daddy’s lap?” 

She sighed. “Okay,” she said. 

It wasn’t really okay, but she could be brave. Especially since she had Abbey. And her dad. 

“What did the doctor say?” Dad asked her mom. “Is everything okay?” 

“It was just a physical,” she heard mom say. “He’s just wanting to discuss the results of the test.” 

“What test, Mommy?” Heather demanded. 

“I think that -- I think that you’re going to be a big sister, Heather,” she said. “But I wanted to take the test to make sure.” 

Heather peered over at her mom. “You mean a baby?” 

“Yes, sweetie, eventually,” she said. “Are you okay with that?” 

Heather worried her lip. “Will I have to share Abbey? I don’t want to share her.”

“No, we’ll buy the baby its own stuffed animal,” Daddy said. “Maybe you can help me pick it out?”

Heather liked the idea of that, and she opened her mouth to respond, shutting it when the doctor came into the room. 

“You must be Mr. McCartney,” the doctor said, and Heather scowled into Paul’s chest as he introduced himself to the man. “And Heather. It’s good to see you again.” 

“Heather’s feeling shy today,” her mom said. “You’ll have to excuse her.” 

“I have the results of your test,” he told her. “Congratulations, Ms. Eastman. You and Mr. McCartney are expecting your first child.” 

Heather stiffened. She didn’t care that she wasn’t really Paul’s, but it still hurt. 

“Actually, it’ll be our second,” she heard him say. “Heather’s ours. She’s our first.” She felt him place his hand on her back. “Wow, luv,” he said. “This is brilliant. What do you think, kitten?” 

“I like the baby,” she said, her tone subdued. She smiled at her mom. “Are you sure it’s a baby and not a tiger?” 

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know that you don’t like the doctor’s,” she acknowledged. “Thank you for being so brave.” 
> 
> “I don’t feel brave,” Heather mumbled. “It’s scary.” 
> 
> “Cor, but you are brave,” Paul said to her. “You came with me and your mum and you kept me company while she was having her appointment, which was a very important job for you to do. I’ve never been to one of these appointments before, you know. I was scared too.” 

Linda smiled at Heather. “No, darling, I don’t think that the baby is going to be a tiger,” she told her. “Do you want to come sit with me?” 

“No,” she said. “With Daddy. I don’t want another shot.” 

Linda decided not to press Heather further. “That’s fine, you can stay with your dad,” she said, and she reached her hand out and placed it on Paul’s knee. “How do you feel about the baby?” She asked Paul. She didn’t want to presume that he was happy about it. 

“What do you mean?” He asked her. “I think it’s brilliant.” She felt him squeeze her hand. “We’re having a baby.” 

“I just--I know that the timing isn’t ideal,” she said. “We certainly weren’t expecting this, and I know that you dropped everything to come out here and be with us, and--”

“Lin,” he said softly, and she looked up at him. “This is what I want. I want to be a dad, y’know, and it seems that Heather’ll have me as hers,” he said. “I never expected that,” he added. “The baby, y’know, that’s icing on the cake.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t drop everything to come out here,” he added. “Everyone else is entitled to a break, so why shouldn’t I go on holiday?” 

“You’re really not angry at me?” 

Paul shook his head. “No, I’m not angry with you,” he said softly. “I mean, it’s no secret that we didn’t plan to fall pregnant, but I’m not angry about it.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “At least we have an explanation for why you feel so poorly, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “You’re right.” 

“The baby makes you feel bad?” Heather questioned, her voice muffled against the fabric of Paul’s shirt. “Why does the baby do that?” 

“It’s normal, Hettie,” she whispered, and she reached her hand up to stroke Heather’s hair. Linda hated that she was so scared of the doctor’s office. “It just means that the baby and I are healthy, that’s all. It happened when I was pregnant with you, too.” She sighed. “Why don’t I get changed out of this little outfit, and then I can settle up at the front?” 

Paul smirked at her. “Change? Why? I think you look sexy.” 

“That’s very sweet of you,” she told him. “I don’t think that it’s very appropriate for me to wear on the subway home.” 

“Y’know, I can go out there and settle up for you,” he pointed out. “Unless ye want to give me a bit of a show?” He waggled his brows. 

“You don’t have to do that, Paul,” Linda said in protest. “I don’t expect you to pay for my doctors appointments.” 

“Why not? It’s my baby, too, y’know. I don’t mind pulling me weight, Lin,” he said. “I know that you’re probably not used to it, y’know, but I really -- I want to, Linda. I want to support you, and Heather, and the baby that’s on the way.” 

“Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry. You’re right,” she continued. “I’m not used to this, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to  _ get _ used to it.” She sighed. “It’s really not a problem for you? Paying for it?” 

She watched as Paul drew his tongue across his teeth, and reached into the pocket of his trousers to pull out a money clip. “I reckon it won’t be,” he said. “Not that I really know how this sort of money works,” he admitted, a light flush colouring his features. “Maybe we ought to pay together?” 

Linda gave him a smile. “We can pay together,” she said, and she squeezed his hand. “Do you want to watch me get changed?” 

She watched as Paul coasted his palm down Heather’s back, and he ducked his head to kiss her on the top of her head. “That depends on what Heather wants,” he said, and he shot her a wicked grin, communicating with his eyes that he would indeed like to watch her strip out of the incredibly short gown that she’d worn for her appointment and change back into the clothes that she’d worn when they’d left the house earlier. The fact that he was willing to put Heather’s needs ahead of his filled her with warmth. “Hettie?” 

“Yes, Daddy?” 

“What do you want to do?” He asked her. “Do you want to wait here while mummy puts herself back to rights? Or do you want to wait for her out in the room where we were before?” 

“I want to stay with Mummy,” Heather whispered. She glanced over at Linda. “Can I--can I call you that? Daddy does.” 

“You want to call me Mummy?” 

Heather nodded. “Daddy does. Won’t the baby, too? Since we’re going to live in English Muffin?” 

“I don’t mind you calling me Mummy,” Linda told Heather, in what she hoped to be a reassuring tone. “Of course the two of you can wait for me,” she added. “I don’t mind at all.” 

Much to her surprise, Paul slid off of the examination table and held out his hand to her, clearly intent on helping her get down. Heather had at least loosened her deathgrip on his neck. Linda pressed a kiss to Heather’s cheek once she’d found her footing. 

“I know that you don’t like the doctor’s,” she acknowledged. “Thank you for being so brave.” 

“I don’t feel brave,” Heather mumbled. “It’s scary.” 

“Cor, but you are brave,” Paul said to her. “You came with me and your mum and you kept me company while she was having her appointment, which was a very important job for you to do. I’ve never been to one of these appointments before, you know. I was scared too.” 

“You were?” Heather asked him. “Were you scared that something was wrong with Mummy?” 

“Well, I was nervous,” he told her. Linda watched him cradle Heather in his arms as she slipped out of the hospital gown. “I mean, I didn’t think that there was anything really wrong with her, but I was worried that there could have been. It’s normal for people to be scared, Heather. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

“Where’s the baby?” Heather asked him. “Is it in Mummy’s tummy?” 

Linda had already slipped on her underwear and her skirt, but she paused before she threw on her blouse. She wondered if Heather might want to interact with her unborn sibling. 

“Yeah, it’s in your mummy’s tummy,” he told her. 

“Do you want to say hello?” Linda asked them. “To the baby?” 

Heather nodded eagerly, and Linda saw her eyes light up with excitement. “Put me down so I can say hi, Daddy?” She requested. “You say hi, too.” 

“Well, of course I’d like to say hi to the baby,” Paul told her, as he lowered her to the ground. “You want to say hullo together?” 

Heather nodded. “I want to say hi together.” 

Linda smiled at them. “Come here, both of you,” she said, and she beckoned them to her. Heather skipped over to her, Paul close at her heels. She held his hand tightly. “Put your hands here,” she told them, and she gestured to a spot on her abdomen. “You can say hi.” 

“Hi there baby,” Heather gushed, her attention captured in its entirety, and she smiled as Heather pressed both hands to her abdomen. She knew the baby was too small to be felt, but she liked to think that it knew that it was loved by its big sister. “I  _ love _ you, baby.” 

Paul had taken the opportunity of Heather’s distraction to briefly caress her bare breasts, before his hand joined hers.

“I love you, too, little one,” he said, his tone husky. “When we get home, I’m going to take out me guitar and sing you a song.” 

“Just the baby?” Heather asked him. “Will you sing me a song too?”

“No, not just the baby,” Paul assured her. “I reckoned I’d sing to you and Mummy.” 

Heather pulled herself away from Linda and wrapped her arms around Paul. Linda took the opportunity to finish getting dressed. 

Finishing up at the doctor’s office was easy. Paul was confused by the American money that he’d gotten at the bank in London before he left, but he was able to pay for her appointment, like he’d wanted, while Heather had managed to maintain her composure while they completed the transaction. She had held Paul’s hand tightly the entire time, but there were no tears, so Linda considered it progress. 

When they stepped out of the building, the air was warm, with a nice breeze, and she second guessed her original plans to shepard them both on the subway home. She looped her arm through Paul’s, and leaned into him.

“How are you feeling?” She asked him, her tone low. “Do you feel up to stopping somewhere and getting something to eat?” 

“I’m okay,” he said. “I reckon that we can do that. I’m sure that Hettie wants to eat.” 

“I want McDonalds,” Heather informed them. “Please, Mum?” 

“That’s up to your dad,” Linda told her. “What do you want to eat, Papa?” 

Paul looped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ve never been to McDonald’s before. I reckon we could go there.” 

Heather glanced up at her. “Please? Dad said we could.” 

“Of course we can,” she told her. She let Paul pull her closer to him. “Did you hear that? She called you dad.”

Paul grinned. “I know,” he said. “It’s brill.” He kissed he hair. “Listen, Lin,” he started to say, his voice soft. She gazed up at him. “I was wondering, y’know, if you wanted to make things official between us, like they’re going to be between me and Heather, and us and the little one inside of ye.”

“What are you suggesting?” Linda asked him. 

“I want to marry you, Lin,” he said softly, and she drew in a deep breath. “I know that we don’t have to get married, because I’m here for you, for Heather, for the baby, no matter what. I just--I bought you a ring,” he told her, and she watched him pull it out of his jacket pocket. “I got it before I left London, because, y’know, I was gonna ask you either way, whether there was a baby or not.” 

“Of course,” she heard herself say, not entirely sure of what her response would be until it left her lips. “Paul, I’d love to marry you. I love you.” 

His eyes lit up. “That’s brilliant, luv.” He slipped the ring onto her finger. “I love you, too, y’know.” He pressed his lips to hers. “I love you so much,” he whispered. “Just like I love Heather,” he said, and he gave Heather a kiss as well. “And just like I love the baby.” He knelt down so that he was eye level with her abdomen, and kissed the spot above her navel. “Hullo, little one. We just found out about you, and we think that you’re brilliant already.” 

“Are you still going to adopt me?” Heather asked Paul. “Daddy?” 

“Of course I will,” he said. “Going to adopt you, going to marry mummy. It’s brilliant, y’know.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Soon, well all have the same last name,” he told her. “Do you like the sound of that? You, me, your mum, and the baby,” he said, having recognized it was important to Heather that the little sprog be acknowledged. “We’ll all be McCartneys.” 
> 
> “I do like the sound of that,” she told him, her smile wide. “Can we, Mummy? Is the baby making you feel sick again?” 

Paul had never been to a McDonalds before. They didn’t have them in England, and it wasn’t really the sort of restaurant that he’d normally seek out. It seemed like a brilliant place to get caught out by a group of fans, if you asked him. He would have never selected the restaurant if Heather hadn’t requested it. But, she had, and he wanted to indulge his little girl. 

“What can you get to eat here?” Paul asked Linda, in a low tone. Heather had skipped on ahead of them, and was studiously staring up at the menu. “I’ve never been to one of these places before.” 

“What do you mean? You’ve really never been to a McDonald’s before?” 

“We don’t have them in England,” he said, and he lowered his tone even further. “Even if we did, do you really think I could have gone? I’d have been swarmed with birds the second I sat down to have a meal.” 

“Birds?” Heather asked him, her tone curious. “What kind of birds?” She slipped her hand into his. “Were they talking birds?” 

“Oh, not the birds that fly,” he told her. “A bird is another word for girl in England. It’s slang, y’know, like moggy?” 

She nodded. “Moggy means cat,” she told him. “So bird means girl?” 

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “Are you really that curious about how we talk back in England?” 

Heather nodded. “If we have to live with you in English Muffin, I don’t want them to make fun of me,” she said softly. “I want to talk like you. You’re my dad now.” 

“It doesn’t matter to me what you sound like,” Paul said to her, and he pulled her up into his arms. “Listen, kitten, I love you. I don’t care if you sound like you’re from New York. You’re my daughter, and that makes you special to me.” He nuzzled her cheek. “I reckon that it will come with time,” he said after a moment. “Y’know, when you’ve been living there for awhile, it will happen naturally.” 

Heather sighed. “You promise?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I promise. D’you want to help me decide what to order?”

Heather’s eyes lit up at the thought. She gave him a nod. “Yeah, I want to help you,” she said. “You should get a cheeseburger,” she told him. “Mummy lets me get that whenever we come here. Sometimes we can get fries...do you know what fries are, Daddy?” 

Paul nodded. “We call them chips, in England,” he told her. “Can we get the fries today, Mummy?” 

“I don’t mind if you get the fries,” Linda told him. “I might get some, too.” 

“You have the money for us  _ all _ to get chips, Mummy?” Heather asked, her eyes wide. “That’s  _ three _ people.” 

Paul noticed that Linda had turned the colour of a ripe tomato, and he offered her an encouraging smile. It didn’t matter to him that she couldn’t necessarily afford chips at McDonald’s all the time, but he had a feeling that it bothered her. 

“I know that it’s three people, Hettie,” Linda said, after a moment. “I can afford it. Or, your dad can pay, if he wants.” 

“Whatever you want, Lin,” he said, and he wrapped his arm around her. “I don’t mind another go of having to figure out which end’s up with the dollars and cents.” He kissed her cheek. “Y’know, it’s okay, I don’t care that you’ve not got a lot of money,” he whispered, not wanting to cause a scene. He doubted Heather realised her outburst had caused people to stare. She’d only been curious. “It’s not like we had much money growing up, y’know?” 

“I didn’t know that,” she said. “You didn’t?” 

He shook his head. “Me mum, she was the family breadwinner,” he said, and he brought a cigarette up to his lips. “She was a midwife, did I tell you that? I don’t like to talk about her.” He took a drag off the cigarette. “She died when I was fourteen. Me dad was a cotton salesman,” he said. “When we went off to tour Hamburg the second time, I pulled in more money than he did. We’d have never been able to eat in a place like this.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I have more quid than I’d ever dreamed of having,” he said. “I can’t even imagine what I’d do with it.” He licked his lips. “Buying everyone an order of chips sounds like a good start.” He kissed the top of Linda’s head. 

“A good start?” Linda echoed. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re my family now,” he told her, and he pressed his hand against her abdomen. “You, our Heather, and the little one who’s in here. I don’t mind providing for us, Lin. I can handle it. You’d be able to take as many pictures as you want.” 

“Even though I’m pregnant?” 

“Why would that be a problem?” 

Linda sighed. “Do you really think that people are going to fall over themselves to hire a pregnant photographer?”

“Well, you’re stuck with me,” he said. “I reckon the lads can’t say anything about us having an official house photographer on the Apple staff. What do you say, Lin?” 

She smiled up at him. “You are one of my favourite subjects to photograph. I’ll do it.” 

“What about me, Daddy?” Heather asked. “Where will I go when you and Mummy are working?” 

“Maybe you ought to come with us,” he said after a moment. “Will you behave yourself if you do?” 

Heather let out a sigh. “I don’t like your work, though.” 

“I know that you don’t,” he said. “You don’t like that it takes me away from you and your mum?” 

She nodded. “Every week.” 

“I don’t like it either,” he said. “But, you know that we’d all be living together. I’d come home every night. And if you came to work with me you’d never miss me.” 

Heather sighed. “That makes sense. Will you buy us drinks?” 

Paul nodded. “We can have the full McDonald’s experience,” he told her. “How does that sound?” 

“I  _ want _ to,” Heather insisted. “Is that okay, Mum?”

“Yeah, Mum,” Paul said, and he quirked a grin down at Linda. His hand remained on her abdomen. “What do you reckon we do? Can we have the full McDonald’s experience? See what I’ve been deprived of across the pond?”

“You’re not really missing much,” she told him. “But, yeah, we can have the full McDonald’s experience.” 

Paul grinned. “Well, if it makes Heather happy to have me experience it, y’know, I really don’t mind.” He glanced up at Heather. “Do you want to help me order, kitten?” 

“Do you want me to?” Heather asked him. 

He nodded. “Yeah, y’know, I’ve never ordered from a place like this before,” he said. “I’d hate to screw it up and have to explain that we’d ordered the wrong thing, y’know? I want you to help me because you said that it’s your favourite restaurant.” 

Paul had noticed that the line had thinned considerably, and they were nearing the front of it. He had faith that Heather could order the food for them, and he could fumble his way through paying for it. He wasn’t sure he’d successfully accomplish both. 

“I can do it,” she agreed. “Can I help you carry the food?” 

Paul nodded. “Yeah, I think that you can do that,” he said. “Does Mummy usually let you?”

“I usually carry the drinks,” Linda told him. “But, Heather’s very good at carrying the rest of it. You know that Daddy’s going to have to put you down, right?” 

“I know,” Heather said with a sigh. “We can sit in that booth, though. All three of us! It’s big enough.” 

“You should sit, Lin,” he encouraged her, his tone gentle. “Rest. Put your feet up.” 

“I don’t need to rest,” Linda protested. “I’m fine, Paul, really.” 

He carefully placed Heather on the floor. She eyed her mother with an appraising gaze. “You should sit, Mummy,” she commanded. “We won’t leave, I promise.” 

“Well, okay,” Linda said. “I’ll sit down.” 

When it was finally their turn at the front of the line, Heather managed to order their food without getting upset over it, even though she hadn’t really been able to look the person behind the counter in the eye. She had, however, spoke in a louder tone than a whisper, and had been more than willing to pretend that he was helping her figure out how American money worked. Paul was more than a bit embarrassed that he found the currency so foreign, since he’d been in the States before. It wasn’t something he’d gotten a great knack for yet.

“Your daughter’s adorable,” the attendant said as she handed him his change. “She looks like you.” 

Paul didn’t have the desire to explain that that was impossible, so he simply offered her a smile. “She’s wonderful,” he offered up in response. “Young Heather. She’s five.” He took the drinks from her hand. “Come on, luv,” he told Heather, who had been clearly listening to the conversation. “Let’s go to Mummy and get settled in with our meal.” 

Heather placed the cheeseburgers and chips on the table that Linda was sat at and he watched her scramble onto the booth beside her. He watched her kiss Linda on the cheek. 

“What a nice greeting,” Linda told her. “Were you a big help?”

“She sure was,” Paul told her, his tone filled with pride. “The best helper a father could have.” 

“Sit down, Daddy,” Heather insisted. “Mummy and I want you to.” 

Paul did as he was told. Heather gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Da.” She sighed. “That woman was so silly.” 

“What woman?” Linda asked her. “What are you talking about?” 

“The bird behind the counter,” Paul told her, taking care to keep his voice low. “She told me that Heather was adorable and that she looked like me.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t want to correct her. It’s none of her business anyways.” 

“That’s sweet,” Linda said. “I can see it, you know?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You don’t have to lie, Mummy,” Heather told her. 

“I’m not lying, Heather,” she said. “Obviously I know that you two aren’t related by blood,” she told them, picking up her cheeseburger as she did. “I just think that you have the same eyes.” 

“You really think so?” Paul asked. He glanced at Heather. “Lin?” 

“Yeah, Paul,” she said. “I really think so.” 

“That’s so cool,” Heather squealed, and she wrapped her arms around him. “I get to look like you.” 

“It’s brilliant, isn’t it,” he told her. He kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, darling.” 

“I love you, too, Daddy.” Heather gave him another kiss, before she turned her sights to Linda. “I love you, too, Mummy,” she whispered. “And I love the baby.” 

“I want to make this official sooner, rather than later,” Paul told her. “What do you say, Lin?” 

“Can we elope?” She asked him, after she’d swallowed the bite of her burger. “I don’t want to make a big todo out of it. I just want it to be the three of us.” 

“The  _ four _ of us,” Heather corrected. “Mummy! You can’t forget about the baby.” 

“Don’t worry, darling,” she said. “I haven’t forgotten about the baby. The baby spent all evening trying to assert its presence, after you went to bed.” 

Linda had spent the entire night in a state of nausea, as had he, though his had been for a less exciting reason than that of a baby on the way. He’d been in the throes of a rather unpleasant detox. 

“What do you say, luv?” He asked her. “Shall we go to City Hall and see about making it official?” 

“What part?” She asked him. 

“I was thinking, the lot of it,” Paul admitted, and he failed at keeping his tone casual. “Making you my wife and making Heather my official, legal, daughter.” 

“We have the same eyes,” Heather helpfully contributed, her voice muffled due to the fact that her mouth was filled with food. “So brilliant.” 

“Soon, well all have the same last name,” he told her. “Do you like the sound of that? You, me, your mum, and the baby,” he said, having recognized it was important to Heather that the little sprog be acknowledged. “We’ll all be McCartneys.” 

“I  _ do _ like the sound of that,” she told him, her smile wide. “Can we, Mummy? Is the baby making you feel sick again?” 

“No, darling,” Linda said to her. “When we finish up here, we can get married.” 

“You mean it?” Paul asked her. “You want to go now?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Why not? May as well.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“You look so beautiful, Mummy,” Heather told Linda, her eyes wide, and Linda decided that Paul had been right to insist that they go into Macy’s to buy a proper dress for her, and for Heather, to wear to the wedding. Paul had packed a suit with him, so they had gone back to their apartment so he could change into it. “Can I bring Abbey with me to the wedding?” 

“Of course, you may bring Abbey to the wedding,” Linda told her. 

Heather had her stuffed bear tucked under her arm. “Thank you, Mummy.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetie,” Linda said softly. She pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know that Abbey is very special to you.” 

She nodded. “Uh huh, Daddy gave me her the first time we met.” 

“Yes, he wanted to make sure that you got something special when we came back from our trip,” she said, and she sat down on the couch, and patted the spot beside her. Heather crawled up onto her lap. “We both got something special, actually.” 

“What did Daddy get you, Mum?” Heather asked her, her tone curious. “Did he get you a stuffed animal too?” 

“No, sweetie, he got me the baby.” 

It was obvious that Linda and Paul had conceived on their dirty weekend, even though she had done her best to deny her symptoms at first. She hadn’t been upset about the possibility that Paul had gotten her pregnant, far from it, but she hadn’t wanted for there to be a baby and for him to feel pressurised to be in the baby’s life, let alone hers and Heather’s. She was used to being a burden. 

She was one to her father and stepmother, and she’d been one to Mel. She’d expected Paul to feel the same way. 

But, he hadn’t. 

“The baby’s a nice present,” Heather said, and she sprawled out on Linda’s lap. “I’m glad that there’s a baby, Mum. Daddy gets to stay with us for a long time, and we get to be his family.” 

“Hullo, girls,” Paul said as he came into the sitting room, looking rather dashing in his suit. “What do you think?” 

“I like it, Daddy,” Heather said, refusing to move from her position on Linda’s lap. “What do you think, Mummy? Do you think Daddy looks pretty?”

Linda giggled. “I think he’s handsome,” she said. “Quite sexy,” she added. “Especially with the scruff you’ve got going on.” 

“I’m glad that you like it,” he said, and he leaned in to give her a kiss. “I’ve sorted things out, and we can just go in and get married. Normally there’s a waiting period, but, y’know, I am Paul McCartney.” 

“Mmm,” she purred. “I love you, Paul.” 

“I love you, too,” he murmured. He kissed her again. “You’re brilliant.” 

“What about me?” Heather asked. “Am I brilliant too?” 

“Of course you are,” he said. “You’re me daughter.” He scooped her up. “Come on, let’s go,” he said. “I’ve hired us a car.”

“Is Martha going to stay here?” Heather asked him. “Will she be okay?” 

Martha let out a loud snore. She was sleeping underneath the coffee table. 

“She’ll be fine, darling,” he said. Linda watched him nuzzle noses with Heather. “You’re sweet to worry after her.” 

Linda was pleased that the baby had managed to calm itself down enough on the trip to city hall. She didn’t want to have a bout of morning sickness around Heather and needlessly traumatise her. Heather had spent the entirety of the car ride whispering to the child who was inside her womb. It was clear that Heather adored her little brother or sister. 

“Here we are,” she told them. “You nervous, honey?” 

“I’m terrified,” he admitted. “But, I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing, y’know. I can’t wait to be your husband.” 

“I can’t wait to be your wife.” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered. “Will you chase me?” 
> 
> “Here?” Paul queried. His brows rose to new heights when Heather nodded. “Oh, Hettie, we can’t run around here. People are working. They could get hurt. We could get hurt. It’s dangerous.” 

“How are you feeling?” Paul asked Linda, his tone soft, as they stood in front of City Hall. He wrapped his arm around her middle. “Are you feeling better?” 

“Much,” she said. “I just ate something that the baby didn’t agree with, that’s all.” 

He worried his lower lip. “What do you mean, that the baby didn’t agree with?” He covered her abdomen with his hand, hoping that the baby was okay. “What do you even eat that we didn’t have?”

Linda let out a sigh. “I don’t think that it’s a big deal,” she said to him. “The burger at McDonald’s was greasy, and it didn’t settle right in my stomach.” She shrugged her shoulders. “These things happen sometimes.” 

“McDonald’s made you sick?” Heather demanded, from her position on his other side. “Mummy! Why doesn’t the baby like McDonald’s?” 

“Heather, I don’t think that it’s that the baby doesn’t  _ like _ McDonald’s,” she told her. “It’s just that right now my stomach is sensitive, so things like McDonald’s might cause it to turn. It doesn’t matter. We can still go.” 

“No,” Heather said after a moment, thankfully vocalising Paul’s thoughts on the subject. “I don’t want to go if it makes you sick. I know that it’s okay that the baby does that,” she added. “But I don’t want to go if they don’t want you to eat it.” 

“Heather, I--”   
  


“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Daddy says there aren’t any in English Muffin anyways, so, it’s fine.” 

“I can take you,” Paul heard himself offering, before he could stop himself. “I don’t mind taking ye, honest, Hettie. I know that it’s your favourite restaurant, y’know, and I don’t want you to have to miss out on going a few more times before we go to London.” 

“You’d bring me?” Heather asked him, in a decidedly more cheered tone. “Without Mummy?” 

“Yeah, y’know, if you’d like.” 

She nodded. “I don’t want the baby to make Mummy sick,” she said. “I’ll go with just you.”

“Is that okay, Lin?” Paul asked her. She was smiling at the two of them. “You’d be all right if we did that?” 

“Of course I would be,” she told him. “I think it’s so sweet that you’d spend time together like that.” 

“She’s me daughter, Lin,” he told her, a grin gracing his features. “What do you say, kitten? Do you want me to carry you into the building?” 

Heather nodded. “Yes, please. Carry me and Abbey.” 

Paul lifted Heather with ease, pleased when she curled her arms around him, the bear clutched tightly in her hand. He hadn’t expected her to like the stuffed toy so much when he’d bought it, hell, he hadn’t expected her to like it at all, and it pleased him that she was so attached to the cuddly animal. That she was so attached to him. 

He might not have expected Linda to fall pregnant so soon, but he had definitely had his heart set on becoming a family with her and with Heather. It may have been unorthodox for him to want to father another man’s child, but, well. He loved Linda, and he loved her little girl, and he wanted to be her father. 

Linda smiled up at him. 

“What?” He asked her. “You happy?” 

“I just think that the two of you are sweet,” she said. “And, yeah, I’m happy. I love you, Paul.” 

Paul ducked his head and gave her a kiss. “I love you, too,” he said. “Can’t wait to call you Mrs. McCartney.” 

“Why are you going to call her that?” Heather asked him. “Am I going to be Mrs. McCartney, too?” 

Paul smiled at her. “No, kitten, she’ll be Mrs. McCartney because she’s married me,” he said. “You’ll be Heather McCartney, and that’s just as brilliant to me.” He adjusted his hold on her as they headed up the stairs into the City Hall, not wanting her to fear that he’d drop her. “Would you like to help me with something?” 

Heather nodded. “What do you want my help with?” 

“Well,” he said, his tone purposely low. He didn’t care if Linda heard, but he wanted Heather to feel like he was involving her in something special. It was something special. At least, he thought so. “I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to a jeweler to pick out a ring for Mummy, and one for me. Maybe we can get you something special, too?” 

Heather giggled. She nodded, her nose tickling his neck. “I want to help you pick out Mummy’s ring,” she told him. “What will Mummy do?”

“I dunno,” he told her. “What will you do while we’re out, Mummy?”

Linda smiled up at him. “I think that I might just relax,” she said. “Have a bubble bath, take a nap, maybe?” 

“The little one, are they tiring you out?” 

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “It means that the baby’s healthy. It’s growing. It’s a good thing, Paul. I promise.”

He gave her another kiss. “I love you, Lin. You’re amazing.” 

Paul had never wanted to dwell on what had happened to Dot, and the baby that they’d almost had together, since it had seemed like his dreams of fatherhood had vanished in a flash when they’d learnt that she’d lost the baby. He’d spent hours in the hospital waiting room, with his dad by his side, and it hadn’t been enough for Dot to want to maintain their engagement. Yeah, he’d known that they’d only been getting married soon because there’d been a baby on the way, but he’d loved her. He’d wanted to marry her. She hadn’t wanted to marry him. 

He had blamed himself for the child who wasn’t for ages, and he still felt somewhat wistful when he thought about the fact that she’d have been Ruth’s age. Or he. He supposed that it didn’t matter, because there’d been no baby, and soon after, no fiancee. He’d thought he’d lost any chance of ever being a dad.

He’d never expected to meet Linda, and fall in love with her, and be privileged to be the father to her daughter. 

That was enough in itself. The fact that they were having a baby was icing on the cake. 

“What about me, Daddy?” Heather questioned, and he glanced up at her. 

“What about you?” 

“Am I amazing? Like Mummy?” 

“Yeah, you’re amazing,” he told her. Heather beamed. “I love you. I can’t wait to officially be your daddy, and make Mummy my wife.” 

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered. “Will you chase me?” 

“Here?” Paul queried. His brows rose to new heights when Heather nodded. “Oh, Hettie, we can’t run around here. People are working. They could get hurt. We could get hurt. It’s dangerous.” 

Not to mention that running around could ruin the dress that Paul had spent entirely too much money on. He still didn’t understand the difference between dollars and pounds, and he barely remembered how to use the latter. He was used to things being handed to him, but he had wanted to appear like he was somewhat competent around Linda and Heather. 

“Dangerous?” Heather asked him. “Why?”   
  


“Because, this is a place of business,” Linda interjected. “Daddy can take you to the park when you go get the rings later.” 

Heather gazed up at him. “Will you take me to the park, Daddy?” 

“Of course, kitten,” he said. “We can go to the park. Run ‘round, play on the swings and whatever else they’ve got.” 

Heather gave a happy squeal. “I love you, Daddy.”

Paul liked that Heather had adapted to his new role in her life, and he especially liked that she’d been the one who’d decided that he was to become ‘daddy’. He hadn’t wanted to force the title on the little girl, he loved her. That meant allowing Heather to take the lead on what he was to her, and she’d picked dad. If she hadn’t wanted him to be dad -- if she’d suggested that he’d remain Uncle Paul -- he’d have gone along with her whims. But she hadn’t. She’d decided that he was Daddy. 

“Love you, too, kitten,” he assured her, and he puckered his lips for a kiss. Heather obliged with a giggle. “Don’t you look so beautiful in your dress?”

“I look like Mummy,” she told him, her eyes filled with delight. “Mummy’s so pretty.” 

“Mummy looks beautiful,” Paul told her. “Don’t you think Mummy’s glowing?” 

Heather glanced over at her mother. “Yes! So pretty.” 

“Thank you, sweetie,” Linda told her. “Do you want me to carry you?” 

Heather shook her head. “Daddy carries me,” she insisted. “He promised he would.” 

Paul spotted the door that read City Clerk in a rather ornate script off in the distance, and he pointed at it. “That’s where we have to go,” he told them. “Did you know that we have special offices that just handle weddings in England? They’re called Registries.” 

“That’s a funny word,” Heather told him. “Do you have to marry Mummy again when we go to English Muffin?” 

He shook his head. “No, just the once, but I was thinking that we might have a party, y’know? My dad and my brother will be sad that they missed the wedding, and I reckon they’d be glad to meet you and Mummy, y’know? We’d have a big cake, maybe?” 

“I want a big cake,” she said. “Does the baby still like cake, Mum?” 

“The baby does like cake,” Linda said to her. “I’m sorry that the baby doesn’t like McDonalds--”

“It’s okay,” Heather said. “Daddy promised he’d take me.” She gazed up at him. “Will you put me down? I want to tell the baby I’m not upset at it.”

“I don’t...yeah, okay,” he agreed. He didn’t think that the baby thought Heather was upset at them, but he rationalised that it meant a lot to her to acknowledge her younger sibling, and he wanted to encourage that. He lowered himself down to the ground, so that Heather could safely leave his arms. “That’s a good lass,” he told her, wanting to be encouraging. “D’you want me to take your picture?”

Heather nodded. “Take our picture!” She told him, before she focused her attention on Linda’s tummy. He got the distinct impression that neither him nor Linda existed when Heather had her sights on her unborn sibling. 

This meant that he could focus on his girlfriend. “You really do look beautiful, Lin.” He kissed her tenderly. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she said. “You’re being so sweet with Heather.”

“She’s our daughter,” he said, and he shrugged his shoulders. It was as simple as that. “When we get out of here, we ought to split a spliff.” 

Linda smirked. “You’re naughty, bringing that here,” she purred. “I think that sounds like a plan, Mr. McCartney.” 

“What can I say?” He drawled, and he settled his hands on her hips. “I know what you like, little mama.” 

Heather giggled. “Mummy’s not going to be little when the baby gets bigger,” she told them. 

“Mummy’s going to be gorgeous,” he told her. “That’s my baby in her, y’know. I think that she’ll be beautiful.” He ruffled Heather’s hair. “Have you been talking to your brother or sister, kitten?” 

She nodded. “I love the baby. Even if it’s not a tiger.” 

Paul grinned. “You’ll get to have some kittens, darling. I’ve got a few at home, you know?” 

“You do?” Heather asked, and her eyes lit up. “Really? Are they real kittens that purr and meow?” 

“Cor, they’re real,” he told her. “I reckon that they’ll like you, you’re good to Martha.”

“Why did you make them stay home?” Heather fretted. “Martha came.”

“They prefer it,” he assured her. “They’re being taken care of. I promise.”

She grinned. “Okay,” she said, and she hugged his legs. “Can we get married now?”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Heather knew that her dad wasn’t  _ actually _ marrying her, but rather marrying her mum, but she knew that they were going to be a family once they got married, and that made her happy. Heather wanted to live with Daddy full time, even if it meant that they had to move to scary English Muffin. She hated when he had to leave to go back to work. Even if he had to work while they were there, at least she would be able to see him every day. 

“Why haven’t I gone to Grandpa’s?” Heather asked her mum curiously. They were waiting for the person who was going to marry mummy and daddy to finish up the paperwork, and that meant plenty of time to pepper said parents with questions. “Mummy?” 

Mummy inhaled sharply, and Heather watched her clutch Paul’s hand. His knuckles turned white. 

“I’m not happy with your grandfather,” she said after a moment. “The things that he and Monique said around you upset me, and I am not letting him babysit you until he apologises. The only time we’re going to see them is when Daddy and I tell them about the baby.” 

Heather nodded. “Is the baby a mistake?”

“Why do you ask that?” Daddy asked her. 

She sighed. “Because Grandpa Lee said I was a mistake. That I ruined Mummy’s life.”

“You were  _ not _ a mistake,” Mum told her. “I cannot believe that man. How dare he say those things to you? You weren’t a mistake and neither is the baby. You didn’t ruin my life, Heather. I love you. I wanted you. Just like I want your brother or sister.” 

Heather eyed her parents with curious eyes, and she watched as her dad wrapped his arms around her mum, and she noticed that he was kissing her hair. 

“Why did he say that, then?” 

“Because he was angry at me,” Mum told her. “Did he say this when Daddy and I were in LA?”

Heather nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Heather, Mum and I, we don’t consider you to be a mistake. We love you. I’m so honoured that you want me to be your dad,” Daddy told her. Heather had never seen him look so serious before. “You know that I love you, right?”

She nodded. “I know, you tell me all the time,” she said. “And you must really love me because you would go back and forth from London to here every weekend. On a plane!” Heather knew that planes were scary, and Daddy was so brave to go on one. “And you would call me every night and read me stories and sing me songs.” She settled herself on the arm of the chairs that separated her parents. She wanted to cuddle with both of them, and it was the closest that she could get with the arm in the way. “I can’t wait to meet the baby,” she told them. Heather wished that Mummy’s tummy would kick for her. But the baby was still too little. 

“Has Grandpa said this to you before?” Mummy asked her. “It’s okay, you can tell us. We want to know. You won’t get in trouble.” 

“When you went to English Muffin for your book,” she said after a moment, with great reluctance. “Auntie Laura said that it wasn’t true, but he said you and my old dad were irresponsible.” She sighed, and shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno what that means,” she admitted. “What does irresponsible mean?” 

“It means that a person doesn’t take care of things they’re supposed to do,” her dad said after a moment. “Your grandfather was wrong. Mummy takes care of you. She’s a good Mummy.” 

Heather had to agree. “The  _ best _ Mummy,” she told him, and she leaned over so she could pat her mum’s tummy. “Hi there little baby,” she whispered. “I love you and Mummy so much.”

“Do you want to sit with me?” Mummy asked. Heather wanted to stay where she was, but Mummy looked like she needed a cuddle. She settled on her lap. “I’m sorry that your grandfather said those things. They’re not true, and he shouldn’t have said them around you.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Heather.” 

“Why are you sorry?” Heather asked her. “I’m not mad at you, or at Daddy.” 

“I just--oh,” Mummy said, and Heather craned her neck in the direction of the door. “Are you ready for us?” 

“We are, Ms. Eastman. Mr. McCartney.”

“C’mon,” Daddy said. “You want me to carry you?” 

Heather shook her head. “I want to hold your hand, and Mummy’s hand.” 

He grinned at her, and held his hand out. He helped her to her feet, and then did the same for Mummy. Heather offered them both her hands. 

“I’ll sing you a song about holding hands, y’know, if you want me to,” he said. “You and mum. You want me to sing to you?”

Heather nodded. “Uh-huh, when we get home. Sing to me, and Mummy, and the baby.” 

“You must be excited,” the clerk said to her. Heather eyed her shyly. “Are you going to be a big sister?”

She nodded. “Mum’s pregnant,” she told her. “She’s having a baby, not a tiger. Super excited,” she added. 

“We decided that we ought to get married before we move back home,” Paul told the clerk. “Seemed just as simple to do it here, y’know.” 

Heather watched as the clerk spoke with her parents and made them sign a bunch of paperwork, grateful that she didn’t need to do that. They were soon kissing each other eagerly, and she was shepherded into a series of photographs that the clerk took with Mummy and Daddy’s cameras. 

“Are you married now?” She asked them. 

“Yeah, we are,” Mummy told her, and she scooped Heather up into her arms. “Do you want to go out for ice cream?” 

“I thought people had cake when they got married,” she said, confused. 

“The baby wants ice cream,” Mummy told her. “I’m really craving it.” 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look,” Paul told her, his tone gentle. “I don’t want you to worry, okay?” 
> 
> Heather stared up at him. Her eyes were wide. “But, it’s scary.” 

Paul and Heather had gone back to their flat with Linda, ice cream in tow, and he had made sure that she was okay with them going out to the shops once they had finished their desserts, and she had made her way to the bedroom to change out of her wedding dress and have a kip. He didn’t want her to be in distress and have him out in the wilds of New York City, after all. 

Linda had assured him that she was going to be fine, and convinced him that taking Heather out of the flat for the afternoon would be much more of a help to her than the two of them hanging around while she was trying to rest. Paul had decided that she had a good point. Heather meant well, but she was only five. She couldn’t help being louder than most people would be when someone was trying to have a lie in. 

“I don’t understand why you made us change,” Heather told him, from her position at his side, and he glanced down at her. “I thought my dress was so pretty, Daddy.” 

“It was pretty, kitten,” he told her. He squeezed her hand. “You look pretty in everything you wear, though, and I thought that changing out of the dress would make more sense than keeping it on, y’know? I mean, since we’re going to be riding the tube and going to the park? I’d have hated for you to ruin your pretty dress while you were playing.” 

Heather let out a sigh. “Okay,” she said softly. “Can we wear the pretty clothes again?” 

“Well, of course,” he said. “You can wear it when we go back to England and have the party.” 

Paul knew that it was tempting fate to mention England to Heather. He knew that she resented the country for even existing, and he knew that she preferred to operate in a fantasy world where they were going to remain in New York forever, but sometimes it had to be done. 

“No,” she said. She shook her head. “No party.” 

“Why not?” He asked her. “Don’t you want to wear the dress again?”   
  


“They won’t like me, Daddy,” she said. “I don’t sound like you. No matter how hard I try.” 

“Why don’t you think they’ll like you?” 

“Because, you’re my dad and we don’t sound alike,” she said. “I’m going to sound like I’m from here. Everyone’s gonna know that you haven’t  _ always _ been my dad. And I know that you haven’t always been,” she whispered. Her face was red, and Paul could see that there were tears threatening to form in the corners of her eyes. “I just don’t want everyone to be able to figure it out. What if they don’t like me?” 

“I don’t think that they’ll care that you don’t sound like me,” Paul told her, and he knelt down so that he could address her at eye level. He was grateful that he’d changed out of his suit and into a regular pair of trousers. The city sidewalks weren’t necessarily known for being clean. “I know that you’re nervous about going to London,” he said, and he placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s scary, isn’t it? Having to go to a new country?” 

Heather nodded. “They won’t like me. Why would they? Grandpa Lee doesn’t want me around.” 

Paul felt a flash of anger as he processed Heather’s statement. He couldn’t believe Linda’s father. 

“He’s wrong,” he said. “You’re brilliant, Heather, and I don’t know why your grandfather would say those things to you.” 

She sniffled. “Why do we have to go there? On a plane? Daddy. That’s so scary.” 

“What, do you want to take a boat?” 

“What?” 

Paul offered Heather an easy grin. “Well, y’know, we could always sail over, on the Queen Elizabeth.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Would that be something you’d like?” 

Heather appeared to be contemplating his offer. “Could Martha go on the boat with us?” 

“Of course,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about anything like that, I’d sort everything out.” 

“Okay,” she said. “If Martha can come, I want to go on the boat.” She swiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Dad?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You really don’t think your family will care how I talk?” 

“I really don’t think they’ll care,” he assured her. Paul was going to speak to them about the subject, but Heather didn’t have to know that. “I don’t care, yknow, so why would they? It’s got nothing to do with them.” He reached out and wiped away a tear that had stained her cheek. “Don’t you want to go to me farm?” 

“Do you really have sheep?” Heather asked him. “At the farm?” 

Paul nodded. “Course I do,” he said. “I’ve got all sorts of animals that live there. Sheep, ducks, goats…” He trailed off. “I think you and Mum would really like it there, y’know.” 

“Mummy likes horses,” Heather told him. She held her arms out for him to pick her up. Paul was happy to oblige. “We go riding sometimes. Do you have any horsies?” 

“Not yet,” he told her. He kissed her cheek. “Do you think that you and Mummy would like it if I got some?” Heather nodded. “Well, that’s sorted, then. We’ll get some horses for you and Mummy to ride on.” 

“And you,” Heather insisted. “You ride with us.” 

“Ah, I’ve done that once,” he told her. “For the telly. We sent it to the Ed Sullivan Show.” 

“Will you ride horses with us on your farm?” 

“Yeah, of course I will,” he said. “I’ll do whatever you want, y’know?” 

They entered the Underground -- well, of course Paul knew it wasn’t the Underground, seeing as they were in the States, but old habits died hard -- and he tightened his grip on Heather. He didn’t want to lose her on the subway. Not that he thought there was any chance of that, since she was snugly wrapped in his arms. He just wanted to be cautious. Thankfully there was a waiting train. 

“Will we still be able to ride the subway?” Heather asked him. She was perched on his lap. “Is there a subway in English Muffin?” 

“Sure there is,” he told her. “It’s called the Underground. People call it the Tube.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “We can ride it around, I don’t mind.” 

“What about the telly?” 

“Ah, you’re learning!” He praised her. “I’ve got a telly, y’know. I know that you might find that hard to believe. It’s in colour.” 

Heather’s eyes lit up. “Really? Colour?” 

“Yeah, y’know, I reckoned I might as well,” he told her. “The programmes might be different, but I’d catch you up.” 

“You’d watch telly with me?” Heather’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “You’re not too grown up?” 

“I’m your dad,” he said. “Of course, I’ll watch the telly with you.” He kissed her cheek. “I mean it, Heather, whatever helps make you feel better about coming home with us, I’ll do it. I know that it’s scary, and that it’s hard to leave the place that you’ve been living, but we can always come back. I promise, we’re going to come back.” 

“I don’t want your kitties to be alone,” she said, and she let out a sigh. “Your  _ moggies _ I meant they must miss you.” 

“Look,” Paul told her, his tone gentle. “I don’t want you to worry, okay?” 

Heather stared up at him. Her eyes were wide. “But, it’s scary.” 

“What’s scary about it? Mummy and I will be there. You’ll be living with me the whole time, I won’t have to leave you for work. I promise, I’ll come home every night to put you to bed. I’ll read you goodnight stories and I’ll sing you goodnight songs. Even if it’s a day that I’m meant to be working late.” 

“You promise?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I promise.” He kissed the top of her head. “You excited to go shopping with me?” 

Heather nodded. “I want to pick out the prettiest ring for Mummy,” she told him. “Since it’s your wedding ring. That means it should be special, right?”

“Well, I think everything for Mummy should be special,” Paul admitted to her, unable to stop the blush from coming to his cheeks. “But, y’know, you’re right,” he said. “I was thinking that we could get her a sapphire ring, y’know, since it’s her birthstone? It’ll match the engagement ring I bought her.” 

“It’s super pretty, Daddy,” she whispered. “The ring you bought Mum.” 

“Eh, you think that it is?” Paul had thought so too, but it was nice to hear from someone other than him. “I’m glad you like it, darling.” He kissed her again. “Come ead, this is our stop.” 

Paul held Heather’s hand tightly as they exited the subway. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Heather, it was that he barely knew which end was up when it came to the city, and he much preferred to get lost together. Or not getting lost at all. That was ideal. 

“Daddy, look,” Heather said, her eyes wide. “Can we go to the toy store?” 

Paul squinted in the direction that Heather was pointing at, and he read a sign that said FAO Schwartz. 

“We can go after we get the rings, okay?” He told her. “I’ve never been to a store like that before.”

“I haven’t either,” she said with a sigh. “I asked Mummy if she’d take me once, but it cost too much money.” 

“Well, we will go,” he promised. “Do you want to go just for you, or do you want to pick out a stuffed animal for the baby?” 

Paul had spotted a jeweler opposite the opulent toy store, and he set off in the direction of it, taking care to not go too fast for Heather to keep up with him. He knew that she had little legs.

“A stuffed animal? Would it be from me?”

Paul nodded. “Yeah, we could bring it home and show it to Mummy?” 

“I want to,” Heather declared. “If it’s not too much money?” 

“I promise,” he whispered. “It’s not going to be an issue.” 

“Are you sure?” She asked him. Paul glanced down at her. “I mean, I believe you, but Grandpa Lee will never let me go in. He tells me that I cost him too much money, that because my old dad left he had to spend a lot of money “chasing him all around the world” and then Mummy “humiliated him” when she became a photographer. I don’t know what that means,” she added. Paul nodded, and he drew in a deep breath. Of course Heather didn’t know what she was saying. She was clearly parroting what she’d heard from an adult. “I like Mummy’s pictures.”

“I know that you do,” he assured her. “Your grandfather, he shouldn’t have been saying those things around you--”

“To me,” Heather corrected. Paul clenched his hand into his fist. “We were right here,” she said. “I wanted that bear.” She pointed into the window of the shop, and Paul noticed a rather large stuffed animal that was sat in the display. It was practically his height. 

“Do you still want it?” He asked her. “You want me to carry you?” 

Heather held her arms out for him to pick her up, and she nodded. “It’s okay, though. I don’t have to get it.” 

“I was going to say that there’s two,” he said. “You think your little sister or brother would like the same toy?”

“My sister,” Heather told him. “I think that it’s a girl.” 

He offered her an easy grin. “Cor, a little girl like you? That’d be brilliant.” He kissed her on the lips. “But, I’m easy, y’know. I’d be chuffed to have a boy, too. Do you think they’d like it?” 

She nodded. “I do! Can you really buy us both?” 

“Yeah, you don’t have to worry about that,” he told her. “I can just write a song for ‘em.” He grinned at her, pleased when she smiled back. “That’s something me and me mate John used to joke about doing, writing a song for a swimming pool.” 

Heather giggled. “Do you  _ have _ a swimming pool?” 

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t got one,” he told her. “Haven’t seen the need before I met you and your mummy. Is that something you’d like?” 

She nodded. “I  _ want  _ one, Daddy.” 

“Well, I’ll have to talk to Mummy, but I’m sure we can work something out, y’know. Come on. Let’s go look for the rings before we go to the toy store.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Heather wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck as they entered the jewlers, more than content to remain snuggly in his arms. She didn’t want him to get any ideas about putting her down. No. Heather wanted to be carried. She finally had a dad who loved her, and she wanted everyone to know about it. 

“You don’t want to go down and look at the pretty rings?” Daddy asked her. She shook her head. “That’s all right,” he said. “We can look them together. Such a big girl, coming with me to help me pick out Mummy’s and my rings.”

“I love you and Mummy,” Heather told him. “So much.” 

“We love you, too,” he said. She smiled up at him. “You’re going to be such a brilliant big sister, you know that, right?” 

“I don’t know how to be one,” she reminded him. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I didn’t know how to be one either, when me mum had Mike. You’ll learn, Hettie. I haven’t the faintest idea what to do with a baby, either, y’know?” 

“Because it’s been so long since she was an infant?” The person behind the jewelry counter said, and Heather instinctively cringed. She didn’t want anyone to know that she wasn’t really Daddy’s. That he hadn’t been there, that she and her mum had been all alone. 

“She’s five and a half,” Daddy told her. “Things change, y’know? I want to do right by her and her mother.” 

“What’s her name?” 

“Kitten, do you want to tell her your name?” Heather shook her head. She didn’t want to talk to the stranger. She felt Daddy kiss the top of her head. “Her name’s Heather. We’ve had a busy day, she’s feeling rather shy.” 

“The best day,” she informed him. “That’s why we’re buying Mummy the rings.” She barely spoke above a whisper, not wanting to draw attention to how different they sounded. No matter how hard she tried, she didn’t sound like Daddy. She just sounded like a stupid girl saying stupid words in a New York accent. It wasn’t fair. 

“Couldn’t afford a decent set the first time around?” The woman asked. Heather furrowed her brow in confusion. “When she was expecting her?” 

“Well, y’know, we were young,” Daddy said, and Heather glanced up at him. She wondered why he was going along with the story. “Heather was our priority, not a piece of jewelry.” He ran his free hand through his hair. His beard tickled her. “So when I quit the police department, and got myself a steady job, y’know, it seemed the right thing to do. Especially since there’s a second one on the way. Heather was the one who suggested it.” 

Heather didn’t like being the centre of attention, even if Daddy had lied about being there for her from the beginning. She knew that it wasn’t true. No matter what he said. 

“I like that one,” she forced herself to say, and she pointed at a sapphire ring set. It wasn’t as fancy as some of the others were, but she thought that Mummy would like it the most. Mummy didn’t like fancy things. “Can we get it for Mum?” 

“Of course we can get that for Mum,” he said. “I’d like to buy that, thanks, I can pay in full.” 

“What do you do now that you’ve left the police?” The clerk asked him. Heather was curious for the answer as well, since she was fairly certain that it had been thought up on the spot. She didn’t think he’d tell her about being a Beatle. 

“I’m connected with Eastman and Eastman,” he told her. Heather bit back a giggle. “They do work in entertainment. It’s an interesting field, and the hours are less taxing. I get to spend more time with me little girl than I did before. It’s brilliant, isn’t it?” 

Heather nodded. “So brilliant,” she echoed. “I didn’t like it when you had to work all the time.” 

Daddy kissed her again. “That won’t happen anymore. I promise.” 

The clerk totaled the cost of the rings -- Daddy had gotten one for himself, and a smaller one for her, in addition to Mummy’s -- and Heather watched in awe as he navigated paying in American money without much trouble. All on his own! She’d have to tell Mummy. After he exchanged goodbyes with the woman, they left the store. 

“I’m sorry,” Heather blurted out, once they’d reached the relative safety of the street. “I made you lie to her.” 

“You didn’t make me do anything,” Daddy told her. “Frankly, I went along with what she assumed because it’s none of her bloody business about any part of our lives,” he said. He lit a cigarette. “I don’t understand why people can’t just keep their bloody mouths shut. I wanted to buy my wife a ring. She didn’t need to ask questions.” 

“She would have known you were lying, though. If I had talked.” 

“No, she wouldn’t have,” he said. “She would have thought I’d moved here and had children with a New Yorker. Which is the truth, isn’t it? I’ve got you and the baby that’s on the way, and Mummy’s from New York. Plus I thought it might annoy Grandpa Lee if I told them I worked with him.” Daddy shot her a wicked grin. “I don’t care about technicalities. You’re my daughter. I won’t have you excluded.” 

Heather giggled. “Daddy! That was naughty.” 

“It’s okay,” he said. “It made you cheer up, didn’t it?” 

She nodded. “Will you still take me to the toy store? So we can get the bears?” 

“Cor, of course I will,” he said. “I’ve never been to it. I’ve never been to any toy store.” 

Heather frowned at that. “Why not?”

“There weren’t many around when I was younger,” he told her. “Why don’t we go explore this one? Mummy won’t mind if we have a bit of a shopping spree.” 

“Can we get things for me and the baby?” Heather asked him. She kissed him on the cheek. “I know that we’re getting the bears, but I want to get the baby more.” 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I like when you call me that,” she admitted, as she felt herself flush. “Mrs. McCartney.”
> 
> “Well, you are Mrs. McCartney,” he told her. “I’m going to be saying it a lot, I reckon.” 

“We can get the baby more, sure,” Daddy told her, and Heather let out a squeal of excitement. She was already looking forward to being a big sister. Even though it felt like they were going to have to wait forever for the baby to get there, and even though Heather knew they’d eventually have to go to English Muffin. She was dreading the move. “You want me to carry you, or you want to hold my hand?” 

“I want to hold your hand,” she decided. “Will you carry me later?” 

Daddy grinned at her. “I think that we’re going to have to take a cab home from here,” he told her. “I reckon that we’re going to have a lot of stuff, y’know? For you, and for your younger sibling. Would ye be all right, if we took a cab?” 

Heather nodded. “I like cabs,” she said. “I like going places with you. Will we still go places together when we go to English Muffin?” 

Daddy had opened the door to the toy store, and he’d held it open for her. She clutched his hand. “Of course, we’ll still go places together,” he told her. “We’ll even go places, just the two of us, when the baby’s born. Moving to England and being a big sister doesn’t mean that you’re going to be forgotten, y’know? I love you. Mum loves you. I can’t wait to bring you around, y’know? Show you off?” 

She felt her cheeks flush. She didn’t know if she wanted to be shown off. “Why would you do that?” 

“Because, y’know, you’re me baby. I’m so proud of you.” 

Heather liked hearing that he was proud of her. “I love you, Daddy.” 

“I love you, too,” he said. “You’re the best girl in the world.” Daddy knelt down so that he was eye level with her, and he kissed her on the cheek. “You’re brilliant. I want everyone I know to see that.” 

“Brilliant,” Heather said experimentally, and she tried the word on her tongue. “You think that I’m brilliant?” 

He nodded. “I do. You’ve been such a big help, y’know, to your mum, while I’ve been at work.”

“She hasn’t been feeling well,” Heather said. She sighed. “I didn’t know there was a baby!”

“I know,” he said. “You’re okay with there being a baby?”

She nodded. “If you think the baby will like me?” 

“I do,” he said. “Babies are good like that. Just have to be gentle around your mummy, y’know? We don’t want to do anything to make her and the baby feel uncomfortable. Would you like to go to McDonalds for tea?” 

Heather thought that was unfair, given that the baby made their mummy feel uncomfortable all the time. The baby didn’t even like McDonalds, Heather’s absolute favourite food. It wasn’t fair. 

“I don’t want to go to McDonalds without Mummy,” she whispered. “I know that you said you’d bring me, but  _ Mummy _ used to. We used to go together. Now the baby is making her hate it. It was the only place that we could  _ both _ get food at.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t want to go without her.” 

“She can’t eat it right now,” Daddy reminded her. “I don’t mind taking you, honest.” 

“I  _ know _ that she can’t.” Heather sighed. “It’s okay, Daddy. We can just go someplace that the baby wants to go to.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Heather nodded. “It’s not fair to go without her,” she said. “If the baby doesn’t like it…” 

“You know that the baby not liking it isn’t anything bad on you, right?” Daddy asked. Heather forced herself to nod. She didn’t believe him, but she didn’t want to make him upset. “It might not even really be the baby that doesn’t like it. Me mum was a midwife, and she used to tell her patients that they might not want to eat certain foods during the first months of their pregnancies. I think she said they were called food aversions? It’s just because the baby is trying to settle in there, and everything’s a bit off at the start.” 

“Oh, so you don’t think the baby doesn’t want her to spend time with me?” 

“No, I don’t think it’s that at all,” he said. “The baby and your mum are just getting used to each other. I am sorry it’s at the expense of your favourite food, though.” 

“It’s okay,” she said. “I think that we can go to the Luncheonette across the street for tea, maybe? Mummy still likes it.”   
  


“I like it, too, y’know.”

Heather gave him a smile. “I know,” she said. “We go there whenever you come visit.” 

“See?” Daddy said. “You and the baby both like it. We’ve all got something in common.” 

“I love the baby,” she admitted. “Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s okay. Of course it’s okay,” he said. “You’re a big sister, Hettie. It’s brilliant.” He kissed her on her forehead. “You’re brilliant. I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Daddy.” Heather did love Paul. He was her dad. He really loved her. “I love you so much.”

“What do you say, we go look around here for a little bit, and then we go home to take Mummy out to dinner?” 

Heather wanted to. She nodded. “I want to.” 

“And ye still want the bears?” 

She nodded again. “Yes, Da. I want the bears. One for me and one for the baby.” 

Daddy ruffled her hair. “You’re a good big sister,” he said. 

“Even though the baby isn’t even born yet?” Heather asked. She slipped her hand into his. “You promise, Daddy?”

She felt him squeeze her fingers. “Yeah, kitten, I promise.” 

Heather couldn’t believe that she was actually in the big toy store, let alone that she was with her dad and he was going to let her buy things. She knew that Mummy didn’t have much money, and she hadn’t dared ask her if they could buy the giant teddy bear, but it had hurt her feelings when Grandpa Lee and Monique had made her feel like asking for one had been a bad thing to do. Heather didn’t want to be bad. She tried her hardest to be good. It wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t had a dad until she’d gotten daddy. She’d done everything for a dad, and she’d never been good enough. Not for her old dad, or for any of Mummy’s boyfriends. Except for Daddy. For some reason she couldn’t figure out, he seemed to love her. 

“Wow,” Daddy said, drawing Heather out of her thoughts as he came to a sudden stop. They were in front of a giant piano. “Look at that.” 

“It’s really big,” she told him. “Like, bigger than the apartment.” 

“I think it’s brilliant,” he breathed. “What do you think, darling? You think Mummy’d mind if we got it?” 

Heather wrinkled her nose. “It wouldn’t fit,” she said, a hint of sadness in her tone. She sighed. “I didn’t know you knew how to play the piano?” 

“Well, I can’t read music, but, yeah, I can play it,” he told her. “I’ve got one at me house.” 

“Your house back home?” Heather asked him, her curiosity at the thought of Daddy having a piano outweighing her negative feelings on English Muffin. “One like this?”

“No, mine’s not as cool as this,” he said. “When we go home, I’ll show you.” 

“Home, like English Muffin?” 

“Well, yeah, you know, we’re going to go there eventually,” he said, and he shrugged his shoulders. “Wouldn’t you like to see the piano when we do?” 

“Can I play on it?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you play on it,” he said. “That’d be fun, wouldn’t it?” 

Heather still loathed the fact that they’d have to go to English Muffin, but she liked the thought of playing on her daddy’s piano with him, and she liked the fact that going to London would mean that he didn’t have to ride on a scary plane every weekend. She wondered if the baby would like English Muffin. 

“Do you think the baby will like it?” She asked him, and she squeezed his hand tightly. “English Muffin. Do you think that the baby will like it?” 

“The baby will like it,” he said. “The baby will like wherever we are, y’know, because we’re going to be a family. We’re really gonna get to be one, y’know? All proper like? I’m gonna be your dad, and we’re all gonna live together, and you won’t have to miss me or be worried about me flying out on an airplane because we’re going to be in the same house. We’ll be able to go up to Scotland whenever we want, and you’re going to be able to play with me mates’ kids, and me sister. Spend time with me moggies and Martha and Eddie, and I’ll be able to introduce you and Mummy to the foods we eat there.” 

Heather felt herself deflate. “Like how I introduced you to McDonald’s?” 

“Yeah, just like that. It won’t be all that bad,” he promised. “There’ll be some good parts.” 

Heather sighed. “I believe you.” 

“What?” 

“We can go to English Muffin,” she said. “I believe you.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Well, if it isn’t my two favourite people,” Linda said as she sat up on the couch, pleased that Paul and Heather were finally home. She had enjoyed her time alone in the apartment, yes, but she’d missed them. “What have you got there?” 

Heather had a rather large stuffed bear under her arm, and Paul carried a matching one, along with several bags that said ‘FAO Schwarz’ on them. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It appeared that Heather had gotten her father to take her to the toy store. 

“Daddy bought them for me and the baby,” Heather told her, and she crawled up on the couch beside her and gave her a hug. “I love you, Mummy.” She patted her tummy. “I love you, too, baby.” 

“That was sweet of you,” Linda told Paul. She patted the spot on the other side of her. “Come sit.” 

Paul obliged her, and he sat down on her left, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked. Like Heather’s, his hand settled on her abdomen. “I thought maybe that Heather could watch some telly, and we could have some time to ourselves?” 

“What did you have in mind?” Linda asked. She arched a brow. “I don’t know if I can handle--”

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” he interjected. “I just thought that we ought to have some time for ourselves. We don’t have to do anything. I understand that you don’t feel well.”

She shifted so that she could look up at him. “I feel okay right now. The morning sickness, it comes and goes. I just don’t want to be in the middle of, well, y’know, and have it come back. That would be a turn off.” She turned her attention toward Heather. “Will you watch some television so that Daddy and I can go into my room and talk?” 

“Will you let Martha stay with me?” Heather asked her. “Daddy? Can Martha stay?” 

“Yeah, I reckon Martha can stay with ye,” he said. “She looks pretty comfortable under the table, doesn’t she?” 

“Uh-huh,” Heather said. She nodded in agreement. “I think that she likes it here, Daddy.”

“Sure she does,” he said. “She likes you and your mummy. And, me, of course, but she’d have me anywhere. When we go back to England, y’know, there’s a big park near my house. We can take her there, she loves it. I think there’s a playground there, too, y’know? We could play there. If you wanted.”

Linda eyed Heather warily. She didn’t know if she had enough energy to deal with her having a temper tantrum at the mentioning of England. Much to her surprise, Heather shot her and Paul a wide grin. 

“You’d bring me to the park? And play with me?” 

Linda worried that Heather’s positive reaction was a trap. “Are you asking if that will happen here? Or in England?” 

“In England,” she said. “Daddy told me that it won’t be so bad.” 

“Did you?” Linda asked Paul. He nodded. “What brought that on?” 

“We were talking about it,” he said, and she watched him scratch his jawline. “Y’know, because I want her to feel comfortable going there. So I told her we could get to England by boat, and asked if she’d prefer that. I don’t want to force either of you onto an airplane. And it might be fun. I’ve never gone home by boat before.” She felt him tracing his fingers across her abdomen. “When we were at the toy shop I saw a piano there, and Heather asked me if I had one.” 

“He said that he has one at home,” Heather added. “I dunno why he didn’t bring it with him. He brought so many cool things to play.” 

“When we tuck in for the evening, I’ll play me guitar for you and Mummy,” Paul told her. “Would you like that?” 

Heather nodded. “I like when you sing to us. Do you want to be alone with Mummy? Martha and I can watch the telly.” 

“Only for a little bit,” he said. “If you need us, y’know, we’ll just be in our room.” Our room. Linda liked the sound of that. She accepted a hug from Heather, who wrapped Paul in one as well, before she scrambled off the couch and towards the television. Paul turned his attention to her. “Can I carry ye?” 

“Over the threshold?” Linda asked. She grinned at him. “I’d love to be carried, Mr. McCartney.” 

Paul stood, and he carefully scooped her up, in order to carry her bridal style. He brushed a kiss to her lips. “Well, it’s a good thing I love to carry you, isn’t it, Mrs. McCartney?” 

She giggled. “I like when you call me that,” she admitted, as she felt herself flush. “Mrs. McCartney.”

“Well, you are Mrs. McCartney,” he told her. “I’m going to be saying it a lot, I reckon.” 

“You can say it as much as you want,” she said. “I could get used to this. You calling me Mrs. McCartney, you carrying me around like I’m a queen…” She trailed off. “You had a good time with Heather, right? When you took her out?”

“Yeah, she’s brill,” Paul told her. “I love her so much. I just wanted to talk to you about some things that she said, that’s all.” Linda heard Paul sigh. “I didn’t want to talk to you about them while she was there because I don’t want her to think that she’s the one that I’m angry at, because I’m not angry at her.” 

He deposited her on the bed, and she settled herself against the pillows, watching him close the bedroom door. Linda rather enjoyed the view. Paul had stopped shaving at some point after their trip to LA, and she liked the facial hair that had begun to cover his face. Paired with the jeans that he’d put on when he’d changed after their wedding and the t-shirt he’d exchanged his dress shirt for...well. Linda only wished that she wasn’t nauseated more often than not, because he was definitely turning her on. 

“Will you keep the beard?” Linda asked him, and she unbuttoned the top few buttons on her blouse, revealing that she was barely able to constrain her breasts in the top she’d worn. A bra was out of the question. “When we go to England? I like it.” 

“Yeah? You think it’s sexy?” Paul asked her, and she nodded. “Well, I reckon that you’re having our baby, the least I can do is keep my beard for you.” 

“I don’t just like how it looks,” she said, her tone purposely low. She could hear the din of the television in the background, but that didn’t mean that Heather was out there with the TV. “I like how it feels, too.” 

“Oh, you do?” He joined her on the bed. “Well, I aim to please you. You’re my woman. My wife.” 

“Something’s bothering you, though, isn’t it?” 

Paul let out a sigh. “She told me that your father said that she was too expensive to go to the toy store,” he told her. “She believed him, Lin. She believes that she’s to blame for your first husband leaving the two of you high and dry in Tuscon, she thinks that it’s her fault that your father and step mother have to take care of her when you’re working because if she was brave enough she could stay here in the flat on her own. She believes that she doesn’t deserve having a dad.” He lit a cigarette, and passed her one as well. Linda didn’t smoke as much as Paul did, but she definitely needed one. “I told her that he’d lied to her,” he said. “I don’t know why he said those things to her, Linda, but I don’t want him around her unless the both of us are there.” 

“I knew that my dad was angry at me,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t know he was saying all that stuff to Heather. Why didn’t she say anything to me?” 

“If I had to hazard a guess?” Paul said, adjusting himself to that he could wrap his arms around her. Linda snuggled close to him. “I reckon she didn’t want to cause trouble. She probably though you’d be mad at her, Lin. Her grandparents were, y’know?” He sighed. “Still. It stops. I don’t want them talking to my babies like that, and that includes you. It’s not your fault that Mel thought rocks were more interesting than you. It’s not your fault he left you. I don’t know why he did that. I wouldn’t have left. I wasn’t going to leave. I was gonna do right by them.” 

“What are you talking about?” Linda asked him. “Were you...are you a father?” 

He shook his head. “When I was seventeen, my girlfriend at the time, she got pregnant,” he said. “I wanted to do the proper thing by her. Her mum and dad, they wanted her to be hidden away and the baby been given up for adoption. I didn’t want that. It was daft, really, but we got engaged because that was the proper thing to do, y’know. She moved in with me and my dad and my brother.” He shrugged his shoulders. “One day she was taken to hospital in an ambulance and that was that. It was over. At the time I was grateful, y’know. I was a wanker. John had told me that I’d be better off if she’d gone away and gotten rid of the child, and he told me that it was for the best, that the baby’d had only dragged me down.” 

“You were seventeen,” she told him, and she took his hands in hers. “Of course you were relieved, Paul, you were a teenager. Why wouldn’t you have been relieved?” 

“But what if John’s right and I’m the reason she lost it?” Paul continued. “I don’t want you to lose the baby, Lin, and you’ve already had a baby, so if something went wrong, it’d be on me, wouldn’t it?” 

“Paul, honey, look at me,” she cooed, and she cupped his chin in his hands so that he could meet her gaze. “I think I’ve experienced every early pregnancy symptom there is.”

“Have you?” He asked. “Have you really?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, honest, honey, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Paul licked his lips. “What’ve you been experiencing?” 

“Well, you’ve obviously noticed my growing breasts,” she told him, and she shifted so she was on her knees. Paul nodded. “And the fact that I spend endless nights dry heaving in the bathroom.” 

“I hate that,” he admitted. “Well, not the part about your breasts. Are they going to get bigger?” He stretched out on the bed and laid his head on her lap. “Are you going to feed the baby from ‘em?” 

“I fed Heather from them,” she said. “Do you want me to?” 

Paul grinned impishly. “I don’t mind sharing ‘em with him or her. I reckon that’d be all right. I just hate that you’re feeling so poorly, y’know, and that I haven’t been able to help you since I’ve been in England most of the time.”

“But you have been helping,” she protested. “You’ve come every chance that you could, even when you couldn’t you’ve helped distract Heather by spending hours on the phone with her, and you’re here.”

“And you’re coming home with me.” 

Linda squeezed his hand. “Yeah, Papa, we’re coming home with you. I can’t wait.” 

“I can’t wait either,” he whispered. “Coming home to ye every night, Mama. It sounds like a dream, y’know? So. What else is the little one up to?” 

“The baby makes me tired,” she admitted. “Heather’s noticed, I’m sure. She’s worried about me.” 

“And we know that the baby doesn’t like McDonalds,” Paul concluded. “I asked Heather if she wanted me to bring her, she won’t go without you.” 

Linda sighed. “I didn’t mean to upset her,” she whispered, her lower lip wobbling. “I wasn’t even going to say anything, Paul. Now I’ve ruined her favourite restaurant.” 

“Oh, Lin, you haven’t ruined it,” he said. She felt him wrap his arms around her. “Heather’s just concerned. She wants you and the baby to be okay. She told me we can go get tea across the street. You still like their food, yeah?” 

She nodded, and swiped at her eyes. “Sorry. That’s another symptom. Hormones are going wild.” 

Paul made a clucking sound. “Oh, darling, be nice to your mummy. She’s wonderful.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Daddy? Does this mean that we have to go home to English Muffin?” 
> 
> “Do you want to see the moggies being born?” He asked her. Heather nodded. “What do you think the answer is?” 
> 
> Heather let out a pained sigh. “I don’t want Thisbe to be alone,” she said. “She should have someone who loves her there. But English Muffin is scary.” 

“You think that I’m wonderful?” Linda asked him. He nodded. “God, Paul, I feel so awful about all of this.”    
  


“Why do you feel awful about it?” He asked. “Awful about what?” 

“I thought that you’d be upset,” she said after a moment. “About me falling pregnant. I know that you like Heather, and that you’re willing to spend time with her, but, a baby? That’s a whole nother story.” 

“Look,” he said, and he took her hands in his. “We were both reckless, y’know. I could have used a condom if we wanted to be hundred percent certain that there wouldn’t be any...potential surprises, but we decided not to.” He squeezed her hands. “I’ve wanted to be a dad for a long time, Lin. For years, at this point. I thought that if I let Jane act for a bit longer, she would have just gotten on with it.” He sighed. “I just wish that she’d been honest with me sooner. Maybe we would have gotten together sooner than we had. Now, I’ve got you, and we’ve got Heather, and we’ve already got the most brilliant instant family, in the three of us.” He grinned. “The fact that we’ve decided to add a fourth is just icing on the cake.”

He sighed. “I don’t really blame ye for being nervous, y’know,” he said. “Or for thinking that I’d be upset, I mean, it’s a scary thing, isn’t it? Thinking that you’re pregnant?” 

“I was terrified,” Linda said. Paul sat up so that he could hold her. “I mean, you have to understand, the last time that this happened I thought that we were going to be a family together. That that was what marriage meant. My parents were married until my mother died.” She shook her head. “Then he just takes off and leaves?” 

“I thought he was there, y’know, at first?” Paul asked her. “In the beginning?” 

After a moment, Linda shook her head. “I told Heather that he was,” she whispered, and he watched her pick at the blanket that they were sat upon. “I thought that if I told her that he’d been there for us at all she’d feel better. She felt so rejected by him. I didn’t want her to think that he’d hated her.” She sighed. “So, I made up some tale about how he’d moved to Africa when she was a year old. It wasn’t true. He was gone by the time we came back from the hospital.”

“Maybe you ought to tell her that.” 

“What? That I lied? Paul, she’ll think I’m horrible.” 

“She’s not going to think that, Lin,” he said. “Wait. What do you mean he was gone by the time you came back from the hospital? He didn’t go with you when you were having her?” 

She shook her head. “I gave birth alone,” she said. “It’s called a twilight birth...they’re fairly common here in the States. He told me that he’d come by once I’d had her, but he never even bothered to pick up the phone.” She sighed. “It’s fine, Paul. It was years ago.” 

“I want to be there,” he said. “When you have the baby. I don’t know that we do that twilight birth in England, y’know, but if I can, if there’s a choice, I want to be there with you. I want to hold your hand and give you back rubs and I want to be there when the baby comes.” He pressed one of his hands to her abdomen. “Did the doctor tell you how far along he thought you were?” 

“He said that he thought I was about ten weeks,” she told him, her hand joining his. “I’m sorry. I should have told you that I thought I was pregnant sooner.” 

“You don’t have to apologise,” he whispered. “I get it, Lin. You were scared. Hell, I’m pretty terrified of the entire thing, y’know? A baby? I’ve never really been around a baby before.” 

“It’s been a few years for me, you know. We’ll learn together.” 

“I like the sound of that,” he said. “Learning together.” He ducked his head to nuzzle her neck. “Hullo there, little one. Your mummy says that you’re roughly ten weeks along. That’s exciting, isn’t it?” 

“Very exciting,” she told him. “That means in a couple of weeks my morning sickness will start to taper down.” 

Paul grinned at that. “The baby will have gotten used to ye?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. We’ll be able to have a much more romantic wedding night.” 

“Aw, Lin, I don’t mind that you don’t feel up to it,” he said. “I know that you’re not feeling very well, I don’t expect you to want me to have my way with you right now. I’m just happy to be your husband.” He kissed the side of her neck. “When you feel up to it, y’know I’ll shag ye bloody senseless.” 

Linda shifted on his lap. “I know,” she said. “I can hardly wait.” 

“Ten weeks, eh?” Paul lifted the hem of her shirt to caress her bare skin. “That’s bloody brill. What are you up to in Mummy, little one? Are you having a good time?” 

He heard the door to the bedroom creak open, and he saw that Heather was stood there. Martha was at her heels. 

“You’re talking to the baby without me?” Heather asked. “That isn’t fair. What if I wanted to be included?” 

“Hey,” he said, his tone soft. “Come ead. We were just talking about you, y’know?”

“Come cuddle, Hettie,” Linda said, and she beckoned her close. Paul was pleased when she approached the bed. “Do you want to see my tummy?” 

Heather had climbed up on the bed, and Martha had followed. 

“I don’t know,” Heather told her. “Do you think that the baby wants me to?” She glanced up at him. “Daddy?” 

“Yeah, of course the baby does,” he said. “It’s important to give your brother or sister attention, even while they’re inside of mummy, did you know that?” 

Heather shook her head. “It’s important?” She asked him. “Why? How do you know that?” 

“Me mum, she was a midwife,” he said. “She delivered babies, y’know, and she thought that it was important for them to be interacted with, before they were born.” He stroked Heather’s hair. “I used to ask her questions.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Thisbe’s going to have kittens, y’know?” 

“When is she going to have kittens?” Heather’s tone was curious. “Is she having them now?” 

Paul shook his head. “I reckon she’s got a few more weeks left,” he said. “That’s exciting though, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Uh huh, she’s gonna be a mummy moggy.” She glanced up at him. “Do you think that she wants you to be there when she has the kittens? Are they called kittens in English Muffin? Or are they called mini moggies?” Heather splayed her fingers across Linda’s abdomen. “Hi little baby. Daddy calls you the sprog.” She giggled. “I don’t know what that means but it sounds like a funny word.” 

“Sprog?” Paul asked. “It means child. You’re me sprog, same as your baby sibling.” 

She beamed at him. “I love you, Daddy.” 

“I love you, too.” Paul did love Heather. He loved her with all his heart. 

“Are they called mini moggies?” 

“Well, I reckon you’d be able to call them that,” he said, as Heather stretched out across the bed, and laid her head on Linda’s lap. “Do you want to?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, I want to,” she said. “Daddy? Does this mean that we have to go home to English Muffin?” 

“Do you want to see the moggies being born?” He asked her. Heather nodded. “What do you think the answer is?” 

Heather let out a pained sigh. “I don’t want Thisbe to be alone,” she said. “She should have someone who loves her there. But English Muffin is scary.” 

“Daddy will be there,” Linda interjected. “All the time. He’ll be able to give you and the baby all the hugs and kisses in the whole world.” 

“Will you really?” 

Paul nodded. “Yeah, of course I’ll be there,” he said. “And, I’ll give the baby all the hugs and kisses in the whole world, y’know, after I give them to you.” He ruffled her hair. “It won’t be that bad, Hettie. Honest. You’re going to get a room to yourself, right next to mine and Mummy’s,” he told her. “I’ve sorted it out to an extent, but I want you to help me with the rest of it. I want you to feel safe here.” 

“You’d let me pick out stuff for my room?” Heather asked him. “Can I paint the walls? Mummy said the ones in my room here had to stay white.” 

“Of course ye can paint the walls,” he promised. “Whatever colour you want.” 

“What about the baby?” 

“What about the baby?” Linda asked her. “I’ll go with you and Daddy, if you want.” 

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean that,” she said. “I want to share a room with the baby, y’know, when it’s born. Can I?” 

“Well, not right away,” Linda said to her. “The baby will have to stay in our room, at least for the first few months. But you’ll still be able to help us with the baby, and spend time with them, okay?” 

“I guess.” 

“You don’t want to, kitten?” Paul asked.

“I do!” Heather insisted. “I just don’t know if you and Mum really want me to, I mean. You won’t let me share a room with the baby.” Heather moved her hand to another spot on Linda’s abdomen. “I don’t know why. It’s what I want.” 

“Oh, honey,” Linda said. “I know that you want to share a room with the baby. I’m not against that. It’s just that, when the baby’s born, they’re going to need a lot of help from me and Daddy, and from you. It’s just simpler when the baby’s in our room, that’s all. You shared a room with me when you were a baby.” 

“When we lived in Tuscon?” 

“That’s right.” 

Heather drew in a deep breath. “Okay, Mum. If you’re sure that I’m not too little to help with the baby.” 

“Why’d you be too little?” Paul asked her. 

“Uncle John and Aunt Jody, they wouldn’t let me hold the baby,” she told him. “Not even with Mummy there. I don’t know why, I was good, I promise.”

“We’ll let you hold the baby,” Linda said. Paul noticed the expression on her face. “Don’t worry about what John and Jody would or wouldn’t let you do. That was wrong of them. I wish that they hadn’t done that.” 

Heather sighed. “Do you promise?” 

“Of course, I promise,” she whispered. “I can wait to see you holding your brother or sister for the first time.” 

“Y’know, me brother’s wife is having a baby,” Paul told her. “I’m sure that Mike and Angela won’t mind ye meeting your cousin.” 

“Would you ask them for me?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, kitten, of course I will. You’ll meet them when we go to my dad’s for our wedding lunch after we settle in at home.” 

“Who will be there?” Heather asked him, her tone curious. “Will they like me? Will there be a lot of people there?” 

“My whole family,” he told her. “Yeah, they’re going to like you.” Paul hoped so, at least. “You can play with the kids.” 

“Or I could stay with you and Mummy?” Heather suggested. “They probably won’t like me.” 

“Why wouldn’t they like you?” He asked, as he stroked her hair. “I like you.” 

Heather shrugged. “No one likes me,” she said. “Everyone was mean to me when I went to daycare and Mummy worked at the magazine. Now we’re going to move to English Muffin? Everyone’s going to know that I’m from here. They’re going to make fun of how I talk!”

“No, they’re not going to make fun of how you talk,” he said, his tone tender. “You’re brilliant, Hettie. You’re our daughter. That’s all people are going to care about, I promise.”

“I’m really your daughter,” she remembered, and he watched her eyes light up. “I really have a daddy who loves me.” 

“Yeah, you do,” he said. “You’ve always got one. I promise. I’m not going to stop loving you or mum, or the baby that’s on the way.” 

“I wish the baby would kick,” Heather said with a sigh. “When will it?” 

“I dunno,” he said. “Mummy? Do you know?” 

“In a few more weeks,” she said. “See? Something else to look forward to in England.” 

“Daddy said we could go on a boat,” she chirped. 

“Yeah, of course we can,” he said. “Anything for you, kitten.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“I don’t understand why you didn’t bring them with you,” George Martin said, his irritation evident in both his tone and posture, and Ringo decided to pay something resembling attention to the producer. He was lecturing George, yes, but over what? That was something that he was unsure about. “Aren’t they living with you?” 

“Who are you talking about?” George asked. “Is who living with me?” 

“What do you mean, who am I talking about?” George Martin demanded. “We know I’m not talking about Paul, am I?” 

“Where is he?” George asked. Ringo rolled his eyes. “He hasn’t been around lately, has he? The studio’s been awfully quiet.” 

“He’s gone to the States,” he told him. “He’s been gone for a month and a half! How come you haven’t noticed?” 

“What the hell’s he doing there?” 

George Martin sighed. “I don’t care what he’s doing, so long as he’s not befriending hideous motorbike gangs and inviting them to come visit us here in London,” he said. “I’m sure that he’s probably doing something with Capitol.” 

“He’s with his family,” Ringo said. Paul had told him that he could tell the others that he and Linda had gotten married, but that they wanted the baby to be a surprise. Ringo didn’t see how it would be surprising that a wild weekend had left Paul’s latest fling with child, but, he supposed they were entitled to their beliefs. “He’s gotten married.” 

“What?” 

“I thought he and Jane broke up because she’s smarter than Pattie,” George drawled. “She’s been complaining about how we should look into a placement agency. Again. Jane had the right idea.” 

“This again?” Ringo asked. “First of all, he hasn’t married Jane,” he said. “He’s married Linda. You remember her? From the Pepper launch party? Second of all, why don’t you just tell Pattie you’re not ready to have a child with her?” 

“Because it’s my choice, not her’s,” he said. “Who were you asking about, Henry?” 

“I was wondering if you’d seen John and Yoko,” he said. “And wondering why you didn’t just bring them to the recording session with you, seeing as you’re letting them bunk in your front parlour.” 

George scoffed. “I’ve booted them out on their arses,” he said. “I told them that if they had access to another place, they needed to go there. I wasn’t having them filling Pattie’s head with nonsense.” 

“Well? Where did they go?”   
  


“I dunno,” he said. “John said he had access to a property in St. John’s Wood. I reckon they’re there.” 

“You told John to move into Paul’s house?” Ringo heard a voice say. He quickly realised it was his own. “What is the matter with you? You can’t just tell people to move into other people’s houses.” 

“I was fed up with them,” he said, with a shrug. “What’s the big deal?” 

“The big deal is that you can’t  _ do _ that!” Ringo sputtered. “It isn’t your house, George. It’s Paul’s.”

“Paul’s not even here,” he said. “What’s the harm? He’ll never find out.” 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s the big deal?” Heather asked. “Why are you and Daddy so upset?” 
> 
> “Because your grandfather and his wife shouldn’t have been having these conversations with, or around you,” Linda said, and she managed to affect a tone that didn’t completely display the rage that she felt. She didn’t want to scare Heather. She was a sensitive child. “You’re five years old, Heather, you’re too young to know what happened with Mel. You’re too young to be worrying about whether or not you ‘cost too much’. For the record, my mother left me an estate,” she told her. “You don’t cost too much at all.” She pursed her lips. “Just because your grandfather and I have different priorities doesn’t mean that he can just involve you in his agenda!” She shook her head. “I don’t want them coming to dinner, either.” 
> 
> “So we can’t have pizza and chinese?” Heather whinged. “Mummy! You promised that we could have fancy pizza and chinese!”

‘Why are some things going on a plane ride and not on the boat with us?” Heather asked Linda, her tone filled with curiosity. “Do we have to bring all this furniture?”

“I...I don’t think so,” she admitted. Heather had a point. What was the point of paying to ship things like her bedroom set, when she had little desire to set it up in Paul’s house, and when he probably already had these things? At least, Linda hoped that he did. She’d never actually been in Paul’s house. “You think that we should leave it here?” 

Heather crawled up on the bed beside her. Linda had been sorting out her clothes while Heather had been offering her up suggestions on what to keep and what to leave behind. The little girl was quite opinionated, and Linda was too tired to make those decisions on her own. It was better to involve Heather. 

Heather curled close to her. Her little palm pressed itself against Linda’s side. “Uh-huh. You said that we were going to be coming back to visit and stuff, so shouldn’t we keep stuff here? So we don’t have to buy new things? Like my room?” 

“You don’t want to pack up your room?” Linda stifled a yawn. It was rather humid, and the combination of the oppressive heat with her pregnancy didn’t combine very well to make a fully functional mummy. “What’s your dad told you about your room in England?” 

“He said that we could decorate it together when we went home,” Heather told her. Linda could hear the excitement in her tone. “Like...as a Daddy-Daughter thing.” 

“That’ll be fun, won’t it?” 

She nodded. “Uh-huh, he told me that there’s a big bed in there. Bigger than yours. Maybe Martha will share it with me? Do you think she might?” 

Paul’s sheepdog had taken quite the shine to her suddenly-appearing human sister. Paul had insisted on including Heather in the care and keeping of Martha, and Heather had been quite delighted that Daddy trusted her to feed Martha her meals and join the two of them on walks. 

“I think that she might, at least for some nights,” Linda agreed. “Maybe the cats will join you?” 

Heather wrinkled her nose. “That’s okay? Even though Thisbe is going to become a mummy?” 

“Of course it is,” she assured her. “I’m a mummy, you cuddle in bed with me, don’t you?” 

“Uh-huh.” She grinned. “You  _ and _ my daddy.” 

Linda smiled. “Yeah, you and your daddy.” 

“When are we going to pack up my room, Mum?” 

“Soon,” she promised her. “When we’re done in here.” 

Though Paul and Linda had begun packing up the apartment with some degree of urgency, they had mutually agreed to leave Heather’s room untouched until they positively had to go. There was little need to upset their little girl. While Heather had agreed to move to England (mainly for the sake of poor Thisbe, whom she didn’t want to give birth alone), Linda knew that she wasn’t overly thrilled with the concept. Of course, she didn’t expect her to be. Though they’d lived in Tuscon when Heather was quite little, New York was the only home that she really remembered. 

Still, Heather had agreed to go, and she’d surprised Linda when she’d agreed to help her pack. Not any of her own things, of course, but the fact that she was willing to pack at all? That pleased Linda immensely.

“What’re in those boxes?” Heather asked her, and she pointed to two boxes that were in Linda’s closet, tucked in a corner. They were covered in a thick layer of dust. “Are they mine, Mum?” She pointed at the name that Linda had written on the lid of the top one. “That’s my name.” 

“They’re...you can read that?” Linda asked her, her tone curious. Heather nodded. “That’s amazing, sweetie.” 

“What are they, though?” 

“They’re your things from when you were a baby,” Linda told her. She unbuttoned the top button of her jeans as she spoke. They’d become rather uncomfortably tight over the past few days. Paul insisted that he didn’t mind the fact that she was gaining weight, but she wished it was more blatant that it was a baby, rather than a large meal. “Did you...do you want to look at them?” 

After a moment, Heather nodded. “I want to, Mum, but can Daddy look at them with us, too?” 

“Of course, sweetie.” Linda gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Why don’t you go get him?”

Heather grinned at her. “Okay, Mummy. Do you just want Daddy?” 

She contemplated the question. The apartment was stifling, even with the fan directly on her. “Can one of you bring me something cool to drink?”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Does the baby want lemonade?” Heather’s hands gravitated to her abdomen, where she knew full well her baby sister or brother was. “Hi baby,” she added. “I helped Mummy make lemonade earlier. It was so fun.” 

“The baby is why we made the lemonade,” she told her. “I’m having cravings, sweetie.” 

Heather wrinkled her nose. “What are cravings? Are they bad?”

“No.” Linda stroked her daughter’s hair. “They’re perfectly normal. I had cravings when I was pregnant with you, too.” 

“You didn’t have Daddy, though,” she said in response. “Mum? Are you sure that Daddy wants to be there when we look at my baby stuff?” 

“Of course!” 

“Even though he wasn’t there? Won’t it make him sad?” Heather looked up at her. “It makes me sad.” 

“We’re going to go through them and decide what we’re going to keep for the baby, okay?” Linda ruffled her hair. “What did you and Daddy call the baby earlier? When I was napping?” 

Heather giggled. “Bumblebee,” she gushed. She kissed Linda’s tummy. “That’s...it’s okay, right? Da said it would work for a boy or a girl.” 

“Of course, it’s okay,” she assured her. “Go get Daddy.” 

After a final kiss directed towards the baby, Heather slid off the bed and headed out of the bedroom. Linda admitted defeat and unzipped her jeans. What did she care? She was only going to be around Paul and Heather. Paul found her growing body to be sexy, and Heather was a non-issue. Being a single mother meant that Heather and Linda had a more open relationship than she had had with her own mother, and she didn’t think that Heather would even comment on the fact that squeezing into the jeans had been nothing short of an ordeal. It had been like she’d doubled in size overnight. 

Paul had been out in the kitchen, packing its contents up. He’d assured her that he could handle it on his own, and she trusted him, especially since he was only packing up the kitchen and not attempting to cook anything. He hadn’t wanted her to move anything that he’d deemed ‘too heavy’, anyways. 

Paul’s definition of ‘too heavy’ included things like jugs of milk, though, so she had just left him to it. 

Soon enough, there were two sets of footsteps headed down the hallway. Martha had long since fallen asleep on the foot of the bed, so she knew that they belonged to Paul and Heather. 

“Hey,” she said, and she crossed the room to where they stood, in order to give him a hug. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and took his hand and placed it against her abdomen. “I think that Bumblebee is growing.” 

“You do?” Paul asked, his voice filled with awe. “You’re okay with Bumblebee? For a nickname?”

“Yeah, honey, I’m okay with it,” she assured him, and she settled her hands on his sides. “I think it’s sweet that you and our girl want to nickname the baby.” She kissed him a second time, that time on the lips. “I love you.” 

Linda then turned her attention to Heather, who held a glass of lemonade in her hand. “Thank you, sweetie. Did you get this all on your own?” 

Heather shook her head. “No, Daddy helped me.” 

She took a sip of the lemonade. “Thank you.” 

Heather beamed. “You’re welcome, Mummy,” she gushed. “Do you think it makes Bumblebee happy?” 

“What? The lemonade?” 

“Uh-huh,” she said, and she wrapped her arms around Linda. She buried her face against her middle. “Hi hi Bumblebee. It’s me! Heather. Mummy says that you’re getting bigger?” 

“She definitely is,” Linda told her. “I can barely zip up these jeans.” 

“Take ‘em off?” Paul suggested. He quirked a brow at her. “I mean, if ye can barely zip ‘em up, why bother having ‘em on, y’know? It’s just us. What do we care if you don’t wear trousers? Hettie doesn’t care, do ye, Kitten?” 

Heather, who was contently whispering to her baby sister or brother, nodded in response. 

“Well, okay,” she conceded. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.” 

Paul licked his lips. “You know the less clothes you wear, the better,” he murmured. 

“Mummy said that we could look at my stuff from when I was a baby in Arizona,” Heather announced. “Did you want to look at it with us?” 

Linda watched as Paul ruffled Heather’s hair, a smile playing at her lips. She thought that Paul and Heather were so sweet together, and she was so pleased that they’d taken to one another so quickly. Heather had wanted a father from the moment that she had known that fathers were a thing that typically existed, and Linda had had to break her daughter’s heart at a rather young age by explaining to her that she didn’t have a dad. She’d explained to her that the man who had fathered her had made the decision to let Mummy be her only parent, because he wanted to solely focus on his job, and had realised that he wasn’t mature enough to be a father. Linda had lied to Heather and told her that this was an act of love brought about after meeting her for the first time, rather than having told her the truth. 

How could she have explained to her daughter that her father hadn’t made it through her entire pregnancy before bailing on both his wife, and their child on the way? Linda didn’t understand why he’d done it herself, and she was a fully grown adult. There was no way to explain that to a little girl. It would have been cruel. 

So, she hadn’t. Maybe it had been cowardice, but Linda didn’t see the harm.

“Of course I want to look at the stuff with you,” she heard Paul assure Heather. “You’ve got to know that I want to see what your baby stuff looked like, even though I wasn’t there. I want to see, honest. Plus, I’ve got to lift the boxes for Mummy. They might be heavy.” 

“I wish that you had been there,” Heather said. “Maybe then Mummy wouldn’t have been alone.” 

“I wasn’t alone,” Linda protested. “Why do you think that I was?” 

Heather shrugged her shoulders. “How long does Bumblebee have to grow in you to get big?” 

“What are you asking, sweetie?”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “I thought that Bumblebee needed nine whole months to grow. That’s what you and Daddy told me when I wanted to know when she was coming. I didn’t come early, did I?” 

“No, sweetie, of course you didn’t.” 

“Then why did Grandpa tell Monique that my ‘good for nothing father’ barely lasted three months of marriage? Was he lying to her?” 

Linda wanted to strangle her father. How dare he have conversations about things that affected Heather and were none of his or her stepmother’s business while Heather was in earshot of him? Did he have no sense? It was almost as if he had managed to be a successful lawyer in spite of not having a brain. 

“Mel wasn’t there,” she forced herself to admit. “Maybe I should have told you, Heather, but you were upset enough to not have a father that I just wanted to make you feel better. I didn’t want you to feel unwanted, or unloved. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Heather asked her. “Mummy, you didn’t do anything.” 

“Except that I had a child with someone who didn’t even want you! I’m so sorry, Heather, I didn’t think that he would just leave, I wouldn’t have moved out to Arizona with him. I wouldn’t have married him.” She swiped her hand across her face. “Never in my wildest dreams did I think your grandfather would make my personal life a topic of conversation.” 

“He does it a lot,” she said, after a moment. “He told me that I was too expensive.” 

“I thought that was because he didn’t want to spend money on the bear,” Paul interjected. 

“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. He just said that I made him have to waste so much money tracking down my deadbeat dad. What’s a deadbeat?”

“It doesn’t matter, Heather,” Linda said. “I will deal with him.” 

“He’s  _ not _ my dad, though,” Heather insisted. “Daddy’s my dad.” 

“That’s right,” Linda told her, in a rather desperate attempt to regain something resembling her composure. “Daddy’s your dad, and he’s the best daddy ever.” She met Paul’s gaze. “You are, Papa.” She didn’t want Heather to notice that she was upset over something so stupid. Heather would have assumed that Linda was upset because of her, when she was upset that her father and stepmother had discussed the subject around her, and, of course, she was upset about the fact that she’d been gullible enough to fall for Mel at all. 

“Mummy?” Heather asked her, clearly concerned. “Are you okay?”

Linda thought about lying, but what good would it have done? Hadn’t lying been what had gotten them there in the first place? She didn’t want Heather to know that she was upset, but that horse had clearly left the barn. 

“Did your grandfather say anything else that I ought to know about?” She asked, as she drew in a centring breath. “I promise, if you tell me, you won’t get in trouble.” 

“He talks about you all the time,” Heather informed her. “I heard him telling Monique that he was going to send me to some school called Dalton, to ‘make me right’. What did I even do, Mum?” 

“You didn’t do anything,” Linda assured her. “And, you’re not going to be going to Dalton, because we’re going to England. With Daddy. Even if we weren’t going to England, you wouldn’t be going to Dalton because I don’t think that it’s the right type of school for you, okay?” She let out a sigh. “Grandpa and I disagree on many things. I won’t have him talking badly about me in front of you! You’re a child, you’re  _ my _ child, and I will raise you as I see fit.” 

She glanced over at Paul. “No, that’s wrong. You’re our child, and we will raise you as we see fit.” 

Linda still wasn’t fully used to the fact that she had a fully active partner in Paul, which was no wonder, given that she had only been in the same house as her previous husband for three months out of a three year marriage. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t entitled to be an active parent towards Heather. He’d adopted her, after all. 

“What do you want to do?” She asked him, a hint of desperation in her tone. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Paul crossed the room to where she stood, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. She settled herself on his lap. Heather climbed up on the bed beside them. 

“I don’t want them coming round for dinner tomorrow,” he muttered, his tone rather dark. “If I had it my way, you and Heather wouldn’t be seeing them again for a long time.” 

“They need to know that this is unacceptable,” she hissed. “I can’t believe them!” 

“What’s the big deal?” Heather asked. “Why are you and Daddy so upset?” 

“Because your grandfather and his wife shouldn’t have been having these conversations with, or around you,” Linda said, and she managed to affect a tone that didn’t completely display the rage that she felt. She didn’t want to scare Heather. She was a sensitive child. “You’re five years old, Heather, you’re too young to know what happened with Mel. You’re too young to be worrying about whether or not you ‘cost too much’. For the record, my mother left me an estate,” she told her. “You don’t cost too much at all.” She pursed her lips. “Just because your grandfather and I have different priorities doesn’t mean that he can just involve you in his agenda!” She shook her head. “I don’t want them coming to dinner, either.” 

“So we can’t have pizza and chinese?” Heather whinged. “Mummy! You promised that we could have fancy pizza and chinese!”

“We can still have pizza and chinese,” Paul assured her. “It just won’t include your horrid grandparents.” Linda watched as he ruffled Heather’s hair. “We don’t even have to do everything all fancy like, not if you and Mummy don’t want.” 

Heather sighed. “I think it’s stupid that we couldn’t just have regular take-out-way,” she said, stumbling over the word. “Takeaway! That’s what you call it, right, Da?” 

“Cor, aren’t you a smart girl?” Paul cooed at her. Linda smiled at the pleased expression on Heather’s face. “Such a brilliant daughter we’ve got.” 

“I can read,” Heather added. “I knew that was my name on the boxes.” 

“Do you still want to look at them?” Linda asked her. “We can, if you want to. I don’t mind.” 

Heather nodded. “I’m not in trouble?” 

“Why would you be in trouble, kitten?” Paul asked her. “You’re not, but why would you think that you were?” 

“For telling you about the grownup stuff that I wasn’t supposed to know about?” 

Linda sighed. “No, honey, you’re not in trouble,” she assured her. “The people who are in trouble are Grandpa Lee and Monique. I have half a mind to go over to their apartment and give them a piece of my mind.” 

“What’s stopping ye?” Paul asked her, the hand that wasn’t caressing Heather’s hair having settled rather nicely on Linda’s middle. “Hullo, darling Bumblebee,” he added. “What’ve you been up to in Mummy? Growing a bit?” 

“What do you mean, what’s stopping me?” 

Heather piped up. “I don’t think she’s growing a bit, Daddy. I think she’s growing a lot. Or he. You said it might not be a girl.” 

Heather had made it clear that she wanted a baby sister. 

“Your mum’s getting a bit of a tummy,” Paul told her. “Haven’t ye?” She felt him brush his lips to the top of her head. 

“None of my pants are comfortable anymore,” she admitted. “I could barely button these jeans this morning.” 

“I don’t mind if ye wear my trousers,” he whispered. “But, I reckon, if we’re confronting your father, you ought to wear one of your dresses, y’know? A fitted one.”

“You do?” Linda asked him. “Why?” 

“I want to see the look on your father’s face when he realises what we’ve done.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“I’m not exactly sure that the limousine was necessary, Paul,” Linda said as she sat down in the limo beside him. Heather had settled down on his lap. “I mean, you do realise that my father lives in a very tall apartment building, right? It’s not like London.” 

Paul shrugged his shoulders. He lit up a cigarette. “What do you think of the limo, kitten?” 

Heather grinned at him. “It’s so big! Can we really ride in it?” 

“Of course we can,” he told her. “We’re going to ride in it to Grandpa’s flat, and then the driver, he’s going to wait outside for us, so we don’t have to spend very long there if we don’t want to, and then he’s going to bring us to your favourite restaurant.” 

Linda’s morning sickness had mostly abated, and she had told him that she felt that she could handle a trip to McDonalds. He suspected that she was mainly going to the restaurant for Heather’s sake, but he sensed that their little girl needed it. 

“We’re really going to McDonalds?” Heather asked him. 

“Yeah. Mummy said that she thinks that Bumblebee’ll be okay with it.” Paul reached his hand out and gave Linda’s tummy a rub. “Isn’t that right, Mummy?” 

Her hand went out to cover his. “Yeah, that’s right,” Linda confirmed. “Bumblebee knows that you’ve missed going there, Hettie, and she wants to give it another go.” 

“Okay.” Heather stretched herself out across his lap. “Daddy, you and Mummy are wearing the clothes you met in!” 

Paul gave Linda a knowing glance. “Yeah, we are,” he agreed. “What’d’you think of that?” 

“Did you do that on purpose?” Heather asked. He was pleased when her hand joined theirs. “Hihihi there, Bumble.” 

“Of course we did,” Linda answered. “You got to wear your pretty dress that Daddy bought you from the Apple Boutique, and we got to wear the clothes that we met in.” She ruffled Heather’s hair. “Bumble quite likes you, Hettie.” 

Bought was the wrong word to use. He had borrowed the dress from the Apple Boutique with the intent of returning it. However, Heather had been so enamoured by the fact that her father had bought her a dress that he hadn’t had the heart to explain to her that it was only to let. He’d made up his mind and decided to allow the Boutique to just consider it having been stolen. 

“I love you too, Bumble,” Heather whispered. “So so much.” 

The tag for the dress was still attached, and Linda pulled it off. Paul watched as her eyes widened. 

“What? Is it the baby?” 

“This dress cost you 200 pounds???” 

Paul tried to hide his shock, and he hastily thought of an explanation. “Well, y’know, Lin, to the average shopper it would’ve cost 200 quid, but as we’re the owners of the store, we get to get things for free. I didn’t pay 200 bob for that. Honest.” 

“Can I get things for free, too?” Heather asked him, her tone curious. 

“I reckon that’d be all right,” he answered her. “We couldn’t take  _ everything _ in the boutique, y’know, but I don’t have a problem bringing you round to get some stuff.” He took a puff of the cigarette. “We can go when we get settled in London.” 

“What about work?” She demanded. “Don’t you have to work?” 

Paul sighed. He was hoping to avoid thinking about the horrors that were sure to await him when he returned to Abbey Road. He had never left the band for such a long period of time, and he cringed at the thought of the chaos they’d probably gotten into in his absence. 

“Yeah, I’ve got to work,” he said after a moment. He pulled a face. “But, y’know, I don’t have to work all the time. I’ve still got time for you and Mummy.” 

“And the baby?” 

He nodded. “Of course, and the baby.” He flexed his fingers, and adjusted his hold on Linda’s abdomen. “I love the two of you.” 

“The  _ three _ of us,” Heather corrected. “Me, Mummy, and baby Bumblebee.” 

“You’re a smart girl,” he whispered. “Always caring about your little sister or brother.” 

“Will there be anyone to play with me?” Her voice was small. “Will anyone want to be my friend?”

“In London?” Paul asked her. Heather nodded. “Of course, people will want to be your friend. John’s got a son that’s a bit younger than ye, named Julian, and Ringo’s got two of ‘em, named Zak and Jason. Zak’s almost three, and Jason’s only just turned one. His birthday was the other day.” 

“Did you get him a card?”    
  


“Was I meant to do that?” Paul honestly had no idea. “I dunno what Mo and Ringo did for his birthday, kitten. I’ve been here, with you.” 

“We should get him a card,” Heather insisted. “Maybe he’ll like me then.” 

“I’m sure that he’ll like you,” Linda interjected. “I’ve told you, Hettie, you’re wonderful. Everyone’s going to love you.”

“Are you sure?” Heather questioned. Linda nodded. “Why did Grandpa say all those mean things then?” 

“I don’t have an answer for you,” she admitted. “That’s why were going to visit Grandpa and Monique, to tell them that their behaviour was wrong. That they shouldn’t have made you feel so inferior. You’re wonderful, sweetie. I’m sorry that they took out their bad feelings on you.” 

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t want you and the baby to get upset.” 

“The baby’s fine, Hettie,” Linda assured her. “I’m not upset, I’m disappointed in your grandfather.” 

“But, Mum, it’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t care what they said.” 

Paul didn’t know whether or not Heather cared about what Lee and Monique had said around her, but he also knew that this was a situation in which his and Linda’s feelings on the subject trumped Heather’s. Paul thought it was reprehensible that his in-laws had trodden upon Heather’s feelings and made her feel as if she was too expensive. Worse, he had a feeling that their comments had made her feel unwanted. Paul hated that. He wanted Heather so much. He’d been so nervous that he’d never be accepted by her as her dad. He had been, and now he felt that it was his duty as her father to come to her defence. Over money, of all the bloody things. Paul felt that was daft. He was sure that he and Mike had cost his parents money that they couldn’t afford when they were growing up, and he’d never heard either of them complain to him. They’d certainly never been living in a flat on Park Avenue. Weren’t those expensive? 

Paul leaned over so that he could whisper in Linda’s ear. “I thought the flats on Park Avenue cost a pretty amount of quid.”

“They do,” she confirmed. 

“I thought that solicitors made good money here, especially in the field your father and brother are in.” 

Linda nodded. “Yes, they do.”

“So what the bloody hell is he carrying on about money for?” Paul demanded. “He’s got money. He was the one who insisted on tracking your ex down instead of just trying to get things dissolved here.” He lit another cigarette. “If there’s trouble with money, it’s his doing, not yours. Certainly it’s got nothing to do with Heather.” 

Linda let out a heavy sigh, and she leaned back against the seat. “I know, Paul, but I don’t know why he’s even saying these things about her,” she whispered. “She’s not done anything wrong. My dad’s always hated the fact that I didn’t care about my studies and that I became a photographer instead of sticking it out at Town and Country, but this is what I want to do. Taking photographs, being a mum, that makes me happy. Heather makes me happy.” 

“I make you happy, Mummy?” Heather asked. Paul noticed that her eyes had lit up at the thought. “Do I really?” 

“Of course you do.” Linda patted her lap. “Come sit with me.” 

“It won’t bother Bumble?” 

Linda shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Bumble knows who you are.” 

Heather scrambled onto Linda’s lap, and Paul grabbed Linda’s camera to take a picture of the two of them. He couldn’t believe that he was so lucky. Having a wife and a daughter was a dream in itself, and to add in the fact that there was another one on the way? Well. Paul was rather proud of himself. He was just glad that Heather had taken to him, and, more importantly, to the baby. 

“What’s she doing?” Heather asked, her tone awed. “Mummy? I felt something.” 

Paul met Linda’s gaze. “What d’you mean, kitten?” 

“I don’t know, it feels like popcorn popping.” Heather seemed quite bemused. “Whatever it is, it’s so cool.” 

“I think that...I think that the baby’s started to move,” Linda told them. She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Bumblebee must be saying hello to you.” 

Heather let out an excited squeak. “I want to say hi back!” 

“Where’s she kicking?” Paul asked Heather. “Will you show me?” 

Heather grabbed his hand and placed it on Linda’s abdomen. “She’s right here. Can you feel her?” 

Paul had never felt a baby kick before, so he wasn’t certain what he was feeling at first. He flattened his palm against the material of Linda’s top where Heather had placed his hand, and was rewarded with some slight pokes in response. Heather was right. It did feel like popcorn popping. 

“Well, hullo there, darling,” he murmured, aching to get on the level with her bump, and directly address it. It wasn’t safe in the car, though, so he settled for what he could get. “It’s me. Your da. You’re quite the playful one, aren’t ye? Getting a move on the second ye could?” 

“She must want to be involved in the confrontation,” Linda mused. Her hand had joined his. “What a sweet girl.” 

Heather squinted at her. “I thought you said the baby might be a boy.” 

“It might be,” she agreed. “I just think that your pregnancy and this pregnancy are similar. Except now I have you and Daddy.” 

Heather grinned. “We love the baby so much, Mum. Right, Da?” 

Paul nodded. “Of course we do.” 

The limousine had slowed to a stop in front of a stately block of flats (Linda had insisted that in America they were called apartment buildings, but Paul was British, and old habits died hard), and Linda let out a groan. He assumed that that had something to do with the fact that they almost had to be at her father’s place, and not due to the baby. The little one seemed content to nudge at his hand. He was quite proud of their sprog. 

“Are we here?” He asked her. “Lin?” 

“Yes,” she said, and she let out a sigh. “I suppose that we have to get it over with. It will be like--”

Heather let out an excited squeal. “Mummy, look,” she insisted, and she pointed out Paul’s window. “It’s Uncle John!”

Paul’s first emotion was dread, followed by horror. How in the name of hell had John found them? He was going to strangle the man. He chanced a glance out the window, and let out a sigh of relief. Heather had been referring to her actual uncle, and not Paul’s questionably sane best friend. He rolled down the window as Heather crawled onto his lap. She waved eagerly at her uncle. 

“Hi, Heather,” John said. “I thought that I’d come over with you to visit Dad and Monique.” 

“I  _ told _ Mummy that we didn’t have to,” Heather insisted. She accidentally kneed Paul in a sensitive spot as a result. “It’s not a big deal, Uncle John.” 

“I think that your parents disagree,” he pointed out. “For that matter, so do I.” 

“Don’t you want everyone to know I’m ye dad?” Paul asked her, in a rather idle tone. Heather gave a vigorous nod. “Well, then, why don’t we go on up and have a little chat? They’ll find out that I’ve adopted ye, and about the baby, and about the fact that Mum and I have married. And, if we happened to talk about the things that upset us, that’d be okay, right?” 

Heather sighed. “I guess.” 

“How’re you feeling, Lin?” John asked. He leaned on the car door. “The baby giving you any trouble?” 

“I’m okay,” she told him. “I’m just tired, really. I’m feeling fine besides that. The baby’s taken it upon itself to start moving about in there.” 

“Really?”

She nodded. “Yes, just now. We were on our way here and it started.” 

“Pretty amazing, innit?” Paul asked, and he squeezed Linda’s knee as he spoke. “I think it is.” 

  
  



	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t have to listen to one of Linda’s boyfriends, okay?” Peter’s voice was dripping with disdain. “How’d you end up banging a Beatle, Linda? Surely he’d have had his pick of women.” 
> 
> “Yeah, I did.” Paul’s tone was frosty. “You’re not wrong, I had my pick of women. I picked her. She’s the one that I love. She’s not busted goods because she has a past. She’s a real woman, a good mum. The best. That’s why I’ve married her.” 

Linda clasped her hand over Paul’s, wishing that they could just stay in the limo, and not go up to her father’s apartment. She knew that that was delusional thinking. She and Paul needed to present a united front. Especially when it came to people’s treatment of Heather. Heather had abandoned the curiosity that was the baby for the moment, having chosen instead to roll down the window enough so that she could talk to her uncle. Even though John didn’t fully understand what had happened between Linda and Mel, he had never taken his confusion or negative feelings out on Heather. From the moment that he’d met his little niece, he’d taken a shine to her. Heather loved him as well. The sight of the two of them made her happy. 

“Are you really going to stay with us the whole time?” Heather asked him. “You’re not going to leave?” 

John nodded. “I promise, Heather. The whole time. I want to hear what Dad and Monique have to say for themselves.” 

She heard Heather let out a sigh. “It’s not a big deal! Honest.” 

“Dad shouldn’t have said those things around you,” he told her. “I get that you might not think it’s a big deal, but it is. Not the least because  _ I  _ was the one who went to Africa in the first place. Do you hear me complaining about it?” 

“I don’t know why they don’t like me,” Heather whispered. “I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?” 

“No, honey, of course not,” Linda interjected. “What do you mean? Who doesn’t like you? Grandpa?” 

If her father had told Heather that he didn’t like her, there would be hell to pay. She didn’t care if he was her dad, she’d strangle him, or beat him into a coma with one of his paintings. 

Heather shook her head. “Not Grandpa,” she said. “Your other brothers.” 

“Oh.” Linda felt that she was going to get a headache before the day was done, and she pressed her hand to her temple. “Do you mean Monique’s children?” 

“Uh-huh. I called them my uncles, and Peter got mad at me.” 

“Did Peter?” Linda arched a brow. She was going to get very mad at him. “That’s very interesting, sweetie.” 

“Is he my uncle?” Heather questioned. “I know that Uncle John’s my uncle, and that Auntie Louise and Auntie Laura are, and so is Auntie Jodie. Then I have Uncle Mike and Auntie Angela, on Daddy’s side, and he’s got a sister that’s my age.” She shrugged. “She’d be my aunt too, right?” 

“That’s right,” Paul told her. “You’re quite brilliant, y’know. You know everyone’s names already.” 

“But why don’t Peter, Paul, and Philip want to be my uncles?” She demanded. “Uncle Mike said he’d be my uncle, and he hasn’t even met me yet. They’ve known me since I was little, and they don’t even want me around.” 

“I don’t have an answer for you,” she said, and she sighed. “I wish that I did, Hettie, but I don’t understand it myself. How could they be so horrible to you?” 

“Because they’re wankers,” Paul interjected. “I’ll give them a piece of my mind when we go upstairs, if they’re there.” 

“Daddy!” 

“Don’t daddy me,” he said. “I don’t like that they’ve upset you, or your mother for that matter. It’s not on.” 

Linda gave Paul’s fingers a squeeze. “Daddy’s right,” she told Heather. “I know that you don’t want to talk to them about it, so you don’t have to, okay? Daddy and I will talk to them, and maybe Uncle John.” 

Heather sighed. “You don’t think it will upset the baby?” 

Linda reached out and ruffled Heather’s hair. “No, I think Bumblebee wants you to be happy,” she assured her. “I don’t think that the baby will be upset with us having a conversation with your grandfather and his family.” She leaned over and gave Heather a kiss. “I promise, honey. Nothing will happen to the baby.” 

Heather shook her head. “I don’t want to be yelled at.” 

“I’ll yell at them before they yell at you,” Linda said, and she wondered where such a bold statement had come from, before she decided that it was the truth. Heather was a child, and she needed to know that her parents supported her. That they were on her side. “Don’t worry about it, Hettie.” 

“Do you want me to carry you up?” John asked her. Heather gave him a nod. “It won’t be that bad, Heather. I promise.” 

“Will you come with us to McDonalds later?” She asked him, her tone hopeful. Linda met her brother’s gaze, and gave him a pleading look. She knew that McDonalds was horrible, and probably not in John’s diet, but Heather didn’t know that. She hadn’t realised that Linda had only taken her to McDonalds because it was the only thing they could really afford. She hadn’t wanted to tap into the nest egg her mother had left her for frivolities. 

“McDonalds?” John echoed. “Sure, we can do that. Will you let me ride in the limo?” 

“I don’t know,” she said, and she craned her neck so she could look at Paul. “Daddy? Can he?” 

“I don’t have a problem with it. D’you want to bring Abbey up?” 

Heather nodded. Linda smiled at the sight of her daughter scooping up her stuffed bear, pleased that she had developed an affection for the gift that Paul had given her the first day they’d met. She was grateful to Paul. He had really stepped up in a big way, both for the baby that was growing inside of her, and for Heather. She was so pleased that he wanted to be Heather’s legal dad. All she’d ever wanted was to find someone who appreciated and cherished Heather as much as she did. She’d found that with Paul. 

“Will you carry me  _ and _ Abbey, Uncle John?” Heather asked him. “Please?” 

“You think I’m strong enough to carry you and a bear?” John asked her, his tone playful. “I’m a lawyer, Heather, not a strongman.” 

Heather giggled at the comment. “Abbey’s not a  _ real _ bear,” she told him. “She’s a stuffed animal. Daddy got her for me.” 

“Did he now?” John asked. Linda was sure he’d heard the story before. It was sweet that he was pretending he hadn’t. “It’s certainly a lovely bear.” 

“She’s a girl,” Heather explained. “Daddy got her when he and Mummy were in California.”

Usually, Heather had clarified that Paul hadn’t been her daddy at the time, but she seemed to not want to, which pleased Linda immensely. Beside her, Paul had perked up at the omission of his temporary state as Uncle Paul. She leaned into him and gave him a kiss. 

“We’ll take you out to California someday,” she promised Heather. “Daddy and I will take you to Capitol.” 

“Will you really?” Heather gave them a wide grin. “That sounds fun.” 

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” 

Truthfully, Linda felt some trepidation as she recalled the flight to and from California, but she didn’t want to dwell on it too much. She wished that Heather hadn’t picked up on her fear of flying. Heather was a bright, smart, girl, and she knew that she was quite emphatic. Of course, Linda didn’t want to change that about her, but it did mean that she had gotten some big fears for her little age. 

“We should really get this over with,” she admitted. What good would sitting in a limousine do when they ran the risk of her father or stepmother leaving in the process? “Come on, darling. Uncle John will carry you, and when we get upstairs you can sit on my lap.”

Heather shook her head. “No.”

“No?”

“I want to sit with Da.” Heather admitted, and she gave them both a bashful glance. “I can sit with him and feel the baby.”

Linda pressed her hand to her abdomen. The child within gave a nudge in response. She could swear it was a pointed one. “Okay,” she agreed. “You can sit with your daddy.” She glanced over at Paul. “That’s okay, right?” 

Paul nodded, and when he smiled at her it revealed all his teeth. “Yeah, I reckon it’s fine,” he told her. “I don’t mind our girl sitting with me and feeling the baby, so long as it suits you.” 

The promise of a seat on her dad’s lap secured, Heather had climbed out of the limo and clamoured at her uncle’s feet, demanding to be picked up. Linda was pleased when John obliged. Heather’s security obtained, Linda returned her attention to Paul. The truth was that she was nervous about confronting her father and his second wife, no matter how much she tried to pretend that she wasn’t. She was glad that John had joined them for what she was sure was going to be a hideous confrontation. 

“Are you okay?” Paul asked her, his fingers dancing around the swell that was poking out beneath her blazer. The baby was keen to capture its father’s attention, and Linda took his hand in hers and settled them on her midsection. “You seem stressed.” 

“I’m upset about how they’ve been treating Heather,” Linda explained, her tone low. She didn’t want either the driver or Heather herself to hear that she was the topic of conversation. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with them. What has Heather ever done to them? I’m nervous about introducing you to Monique,” she added. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want them to hate you--”   
  


“I don’t bloody care if they hate me,” Paul admitted, his tone practically a growl. “They need to respect that I’m your husband, and that Heather is our daughter. She’s not some pawn in whatever disagreement they have with you, or with me. She’s not to blame for what happened between you and Mel, and I won’t have them making her feel like she’s a problem. Or you, for that matter, because you’re not a problem, Lin. You had a failed marriage. So what? How long are they going to be harping you on it? When we’ve been married for decades? It’s not on.” He squeezed her hand. “How long are they going to keep blaming you for something that’s not even your fault? If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Mel’s. He left you. He left Heather. I could never imagine doing that.” 

“Even if we fight?” Linda asked him, her tone hesitant. “I’m not easy to get along with, Paul.”

“Yeah, well, neither am I,” he shrugged. He lit a cigarette. “Fighting doesn’t mean walking away. It means that we fight. Doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she whispered. She kissed him on the cheek. “That means a lot to me.” 

“What do you say,” he encouraged, his tone gentle. “We ought to give them a show.” 

“Well, okay,” she said. She smoothed her top out as best that she could. Paul helped her out of the limo. “Thanks for coming,” she told John, and she wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks for helping.” 

John had helped ensure that Paul’s adoption of Heather had been legitimate. That meant the world to her. She didn’t know if she was ever going to repay him. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Linnie,” he insisted. “I wanted to do it.” 

Heather reached her hand out to pat the top of her mother’s head. John had lifted her atop his shoulders. 

“I know,” she assured him. “It still means a lot to me.” 

“I know.” 

“Will you still come for dinner tomorrow?” Linda asked him, as Paul opened the door that led to the lobby of her father’s apartment building. A consummate gentleman, he held the door open for her and John, before he returned to his position at her side. “Obviously, some of our guests are no longer invited, but I’d like you to bring Jodie and Lulu, if you still wanted.” 

“Uh-huh,” Heather chimed in. “Bring Lulu. I want her to play with me and Martha!”

John chuckled. “Of course, I’ll bring Lulu.” He glanced up at Heather. “You’re getting some practise in for when your little sibling is born?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, I want to be the best big sister there is,” she told him. “We’re calling the baby Bumblebee!”

“Are you?” He asked. “As a name?” 

“No, John, not as a name,” Linda assured him. “Bumblebee is just what we’ve decided to call the baby as a nickname.” 

“We haven’t thought about names for the baby yet,” Paul interjected. His hand had settled on Linda’s hip. “Maybe we ought to name the baby after my mum…” He trailed off. 

“We can,” Linda squeezed his hand. “Yeah, we can do that.” 

Heather had been named after Linda’s mother, and Linda herself, but she had stuck the name Louise in the middle. She didn’t have the psychological fortitude to call her own child Louise. She’d been pregnant with Heather too recently after her mother’s death. It had been John who had named his daughter directly after their mum. Lulu was two years old, and Heather delighted in the presence of her younger cousin. She played with her and was quite doting. It was one of the reasons that Linda thought she’d be a good big sister. 

Heather let out a groan. “Mum, I don’t want to go in the elevator with him.” 

“With whom?” Linda asked. She’d worn sunglasses into the apartment building, and her field of vision wasn’t as vast as it normally would have been. She took them off, and placed them atop her head, and followed Heather’s pointed finger. It appeared that her stepbrother had had the same idea that they’d had: a visit with Lee and Monique. Linda sighed. “Heather, we can’t avoid him. We’re going to the same place.” 

“But he’s mean to me,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to ride up with him.” 

“What if I carry ye?” Paul offered. Linda had felt him stiffen at Heather’s proclamation of Peter being mean to her. Frankly, she was angry as well. “I know that your uncle’s carrying ye, but I can. I don’t mind.” 

“Will you be mad at me, Uncle John?” Heather asked. “If Daddy carries me?”

“No, I won’t be mad,” he promised her. “Your dad’s more than welcomed to carry you.” 

Linda watched as Paul carefully took Heather from her brother, and settled her in his arms. She quite liked the sight of Paul holding their little girl. Heather clearly felt secure in his arms, and she watched her nestle her head against his chest. Her thumb found its way into her mouth. She thought about redirecting her, but decided that now wasn’t the time. In truth, Linda emphasised deeply with Heather. 

“Come on,” she said, forcing herself to take the lead. “We don’t have to say anything to him.” 

Linda had bigger things to worry about than the thought of having to fake pleasantries with a stepbrother whom she hated, and she linked one of her arms through Paul’s, and the other through John’s. There was a strength in numbers after all. 

Linda was sure that the conversation with her father was going to be awkward at best. The baby had made its presence known, and she was sure that her father would notice. There was definitely a bump that hadn’t been there the last time she’d worn the outfit, and certainly the last time she’d seen her father. Linda had been avoiding him since they’d come back from California. There had been little need to see him, what with Paul coming up from England every weekend. She’d wanted Paul and Heather to get to know each other, not have Paul be given the third degree from her father. The bombs that Heather had persisted on dropping had only cemented her decision. If she hadn’t been so angry about what he’d told her daughter, she wouldn’t have come to see him at all. He could have found out about her marriage, and her impending arrival, from the daily papers. Alas, Linda’s desire to be petty had been outweighed by her desire to stand up for Heather. 

“The prodigal daughter returns,” Peter commented. “Come to drop Heather off so you can take your little pictures?” His tone was dripping with disdain. 

“Don’t worry,” she sniffed. “I’m not leaving Heather here, ever again.” 

“What? Don’t tell me you think that your  _ boyfriend _ takes better care of Heather than my mother?” 

Linda drew in a deep breath. “I would leave Heather with Paul’s dog, before I left her with your mother again,” she sputtered. “At least then I would know she was being taken care of. How dare you?”

“Lin--” Paul tried to interject. 

She shook her head. “No, I am so tired of this. I’m sorry that my career embarrasses you,” she told Peter, in a tone that revealed that she wasn’t very sorry at all. “I’m sorry that your mother and my father couldn’t be bothered to just tell me that they didn’t want to take care of my daughter while I was working. Had I known that Heather was such a burden, I would have taken her with me.” Linda rolled her eyes. Heather was the opposite of a burden. “Silly me, thinking that my father meant what he said when I moved back to New York.” 

“My mother didn’t sign up for caring for your mistakes--”   
  


“She’s  _ not _ a bloody mistake,” Paul snapped. “Shut up about Heather, okay? She didn’t ask to come into this world how she came into it, and I won’t have you be bringing her down about it.” 

“I don’t have to listen to one of Linda’s boyfriends, okay?” Peter’s voice was dripping with disdain. “How’d you end up banging a Beatle, Linda? Surely he’d have had his pick of women.” 

“Yeah, I did.” Paul’s tone was frosty. “You’re not wrong, I had my pick of women. I picked her. She’s the one that I love. She’s not busted goods because she has a past. She’s a real woman, a good mum. The best. That’s why I’ve married her.” 

Peter barked out a laugh. “Oh, that’s...you expect me to believe that? You’re kidding.”

“There’s nothing funny about that.” Paul said, his tone low. “I’ve married her, and I’ve adopted Heather as if she’s my own. We’re a proper family.” 

Heather had been silent, but she beamed at Paul’s comment. “The best family,” she whispered. “Even if we have to move to English Muffin.”

“At least you’ll be easier to track down.” 

“That’s enough!” Linda heard the growl in Paul’s voice. “I’m not going to sod off and leave them, okay? It’s not their fault that Mel did that to them. Stop making Linda and Heather feel terrible about themselves because what? Her ex-husband left? He went away to go study rocks? I’m not going to do that to them. I’ve married Linda. I’ve made a commitment to them. No one asked you for your opinion, anyways.”

Peter looked Linda up and down. “Right, of course you married her. That’s the proper thing to do, isn’t it?” 

“Why don’t you just be quiet?” Linda demanded. “Why does my romantic life concern you at all, Peter? We barely know each other.”

Just because her father had seen fit to marry Monique less than a year after her mother’s death did not mean that Linda either approved of the union or considered Monique’s children to be her siblings. When she’d finally met Monique it had been at John’s wedding to Jodie, and she had been forced to be nice to her, because it was her brother’s wedding. Whether her father had mistook this as her approving of the situation or not, she wasn’t sure. She had just done her best to get on with her life. Complaining about her dad’s new wife wasn’t going to bring her mother back, was it? Linda missed her mother, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that she wasn’t coming back. 

“Why shouldn’t it? What are people going to think of my mother, with her stepdaughter acting like this? You don’t think the sight of you parading around the city flaunting--”

“Shut up,” Linda hissed. Rage coursed through her veins. “I’m not ‘flaunting’ anything, and if I was, I’m not ashamed. I’m not ashamed of Heather, or of Paul, or of the child we’re carrying. If I want to parade around the city, I damn well will.” She jabbed the button for her father’s floor, wanting to strangle Peter. “The good news is that your mother won’t have to worry about what people will think because we’re going home! Paul has to go back to work, and Heather and I are going with him.”

Fortunately for Peter, he had the sense to heed Linda’s warning, most likely out of his desire to remain in one piece, and not torn to literal shreds by his reluctant, hormonal, stepsister. Linda was certain that he hadn’t changed his mind on her, or her daughter, or the life they’d built. She was annoyed at that, but at least he’d managed the miracle of being quiet. She drew in a deep breath, and tucked herself closer to Paul, who slipped his arm around her waist. She felt him kiss her hair. Bumblebee seemed to have wanted to get in on the disagreement. Their unborn child was going to town inside of her, directly beneath Paul’s palm. In spite of the rage she felt, she managed to smile up at him. 

“Seems our Bumblebee’s got an opinion on the subject,” Paul teased. She relaxed incrementally. Paul’s hand on her abdomen was centring. “What’re you up to in your Mummy, little one?” 

Heather eyed them with curious eyes. “Is the baby kicking again?” 

Linda nodded. “Quite forcefully. Do you want Daddy to put you down so you can feel?” Heather shook her head. “Do you want to wait until we’re in Grandpa’s flat?” She nodded. “Okay. I’m sure the baby will still be up.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “Daddy makes me feel safe.” She sighed. “Maybe Uncle John can feel Bumblebee?”

Linda turned her gaze to John. “Do you want to?” 

“You want me to?” John asked her. “If you want me to, yeah. Of course.” 

Linda wasn’t really used to people paying attention to her while she was pregnant, but she found that she didn’t mind. John was her brother, the one closest in age to her, and she wanted him to feel the baby kick. She took his hand in hers and placed them both on her abdomen, directly where Paul’s had been. The baby gave a hard poke in response to the pressure. 

“You felt that?” She asked him. The baby did it again. “That’s your niece or nephew.” 

“Yeah, I felt it,” he told her. “That’s amazing, Lin. What do you want to have?”

“No preference,” Linda said in response. “We just want a healthy baby, Paul and me. What do you want, Hettie?” 

“I want a sister,” Heather whispered. “So she can use the stuff that I used when I was a baby, that we looked at earlier.” 

“Well,” Linda told her, and she reached over so she could stroke Heather’s hair. “A brother could use those things, too. Your dad and I don’t care, do we, Papa?” 

Linda could tell that the presence of Peter had made Paul feel on edge, and she didn’t necessarily blame him for feeling discomfort. Truthfully, Monique’s sons made her feel uneasy. She was kicking herself for letting Heather stay at her father’s with them present. Still, she didn’t want Paul to be simmering in anger. That would do them no good. She wrapped her arm around his waist, and leaned into him. 

Paul pulled her close, and his hand returned to its place on her abdomen. “Of course the baby can use those things,” he agreed. “I don’t mind, as long as you don’t, Mama.” 

Peter snorted. 

“What are you finding so amusing?” Linda drawled, her tone bored. She carefully examined her fingernails. “Go on, let us little people in on your joke.” 

“The two of you,” he scoffed. “Mama? Papa? What the hell are you on?” 

“We’re normalising it for Heather,” she hissed. “What does it matter to you?” She drew in a deep breath. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care what you think about me. I’m not going to be ashamed of my life just because I’m not living up to your ridiculous standards. You’re  _ not _ my father. Even he’s got no right to say anything to me.” 

The elevator had come to a stop, and Linda watched as Peter stalked out of the doors and into the corridor. She’d clenched her hands into fists. “Heather?”

“Yes, Mummy?” Heather asked. “Are you mad at me?” 

She quickly shook her head. “No, sweetie, I’m not mad,” she assured her. “I was wondering if you minded going ahead with Uncle John? I just want to be with Daddy for a few moments.” 

“You promise that you’re coming?” 

She nodded. “Of course. I promise.” 

Heather’s gaze turned to John. “Will you carry me?” 

“Always.” 

They stepped out of the elevator, and Paul handed Heather to John. Abbey was clutched tightly in her hand. Heather adored her uncle, so she was eager to please her mum by going with him. Linda was grateful for that. What she wasn’t grateful for was the fact that she had dragged Paul over to her father’s apartment for what was sure to be an awful mess. 

“I’m sorry,” she insisted. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry about?” Paul asked her, concern evident in his tone. “What is it, Lin?” 

* * *

  
  
  


“We were common-law,” she said after a moment. “He didn’t want to marry me. He was pissed off that I got pregnant and that my father wanted him to do the right thing by me. I think he wanted me to stay in New York, but I wanted Heather to have a family. He was her father, Paul. I thought that things would be different in Tuscon.” 

“Mel left, and I didn’t tell anyone at first.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I kept hoping that he would come back. I mean, I was pregnant. If he didn’t care about me, I thought maybe he’d care about my child.” 

“Well, of course you’d think that,” Paul whispered, and she felt him wrap her into a hug. “You’re her mum. Why wouldn’t you think that he’d have done the right thing?” 

“I told John,” she admitted. “He’d come up to visit me. He knew that we weren’t married but he wanted to ensure that he wasn’t going to be a problem for me anymore. I mainly had him do it for Heather.” She sniffled. “Mel said all sorts of horrible things about us. How he wasn’t sure if he was really her father. How he’d told me that he wasn’t interested in settling down. He told John that he didn’t want his name on Heather’s birth certificate, that I was to have her father listed as ‘unknown’.” 

“I don’t care about what happened between you and Mel,” Paul insisted. “I mean, I care, Lin, because he sounds like a bloody prick, and I don’t like what he did to you, or to our daughter. It wasn’t on. It doesn’t change how I feel about you, or about Heather, or about this little one here.” 

Bumblebee clearly knew that she was being spoken of. Linda felt a jolt of movement. 

Paul clasped her hand in his. “Honestly, Lin? I’d just as soon have it this way.” 

“You would?” 

“She’s mine,” he pointed out. “No one can say nothing because she’s mine.” 

  
  


“That’s right,” Linda nodded in agreement. “She’s yours. We’re yours.” 

Paul tightened his arms around her. He quite liked the feeling of her tummy pressed to his, regardless of whether the baby was kicking or not. Bumblebee  _ was _ kicking, of course. She was fluttering around inside of her mum. He really loved Linda and he couldn’t believe that he finally got to call her his wife. He kissed the top of her head. “You’re always gonna be mine,” he promised. “There’s no getting rid of me, even if you want to.”

“You don’t understand,” she whimpered. “My dad is probably going to tell Heather about that. I don’t want him to, Paul. She’s already been hurt.” 

“So, we’ll go in there, and we’ll make sure that he doesn’t.” It seemed simple to Paul. “I’ll come to your defence. No matter what.” 

He was surprised when he felt his shirt dampen, and he quickly realised that Linda was crying. Paul wasn’t very great with emotions. He did his best to avoid having them, and he was somewhat flummoxed by the state his wife was in. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Linda shook her head. “Nothing,” she wept. “I just...you’re so sweet. You care so much about us.” 

“That’s made you cry?” Paul’s eyes widened. He ran his hand down from the top of her head to her lower back. “Why?”

She drew in a shuddering breath. “It’s my hormones,” she whispered. Her tone was hoarse. “They’re making my emotions all weird.” 

Paul pushed up the hem of her jumper in order to reveal the bare expanse of skin that contained their unborn child. He took great care to make sure that he was eye level with it, and tenderly pressed his palm flat against her abdomen. The baby gave him a nudge in response. Paul wondered if he or she knew who he was. He hoped so. 

“Uh, hullo, little Bumblebee,” he addressed the bump, not caring if anyone saw. If they recognised him? Oh well. “It’s me, y’know, your daddy.” He licked his lips. “When Mummy told me that she thought ye were inside of her, I was terrified. I’d never been a dad before, y’know. Now I’ve got your mummy, and your big sister. I love them so much. I love you, too. I’m not scared of ye anymore.” He carefully pressed a kiss to her tummy. Bumblebee nudged him quite happily in response. “Yeah?” He cooed. “Yeah, you love me too. And Mummy, and your sister. I hear ye’ve been giving Mummy some trouble? Making her cry?” There was another kick. “Be good, Bumblebee.” 

He pulled himself upright, and set Linda back to rights. “You’re a brilliant mum. A brilliant woman. I’m so proud to call you my wife.”

“I love you, too, Paul.” Linda pressed her lips to his, giving him a brief kiss. “You’re so good with Heather. She really loves you. You’re the best husband.” She squeezed his hand. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” 

Paul had never been inside of his father-in-law’s flat before, and he hadn’t expected it to be quite so large. He’d found Linda’s flat to be rather homey. He could see them staying there with the kids when they came to New York. Her father’s flat seemed to be quite ostentatious. It was littered with various paintings, and from the entranceway the hallway seemed indefinite. It didn’t help that Paul was anxious to reunite with Heather. He trusted John, of course, but he didn’t trust his other in-laws. He knew Heather had to be quite nervous. 

“Did you live here?” Paul asked, as Linda led them in the direction of the sounds of conversation. “With your mum and dad?” 

She shook her head. “Dad bought it after she died,” she told him. “I have no desire to live here. We grew up in Scarsdale.” She shrugged. “We still have a house there, if Dad hasn’t sold it without telling us. I don’t like this kind of life. I want to have my house be a home. I want to do my own cooking and cleaning and raise my own kids. I think I do all right with that, don’t you?” 

He wrapped his arm around her. “I think you’re a brilliant mum,” he assured her. “Yeah, you do all right. More than all right.” 

“They’re in here,” she said, and she pulled him into a rather fancy sitting room. “Hello,” she directed to the room’s inhabitants. “I wanted all of you to meet my husband.”

“Your what?” Lee sputtered. “You can’t expect me to believe that. After last time?”

“Dad!” 

Heather had been perched on her uncle’s lap when they’d entered the room. Suddenly, she’d been wrapped around Paul’s lower legs. “Hullo, darling,” he said obligingly. “Have they been nice to you?” 

“I missed you, Daddy,” Heather insisted. “Pick me up.” 

Paul was happy to oblige, and he scooped Heather up. “Why don’t we sit with your uncle,” he suggested to her. “It looks like there’s room for the lot of us.” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, that’s what he told me to tell you.” 

“Right, well. Come on, then.”

Paul allowed Linda to settle herself down on the settee first, before he sank down beside her. Heather remained on his lap. She clutched Penny in her arms. While Heather practised her death grip on her stuffed animal, Linda was practising hers on his hand. Paul didn’t really mind, though. He knew she was nervous. He was too. 

“You mean to tell me that you’ve married this long hair?” Lee demanded of Linda. “How do you expect me to believe that when you couldn’t be bothered to properly--”

“That’s what we came here to talk to you about,” Paul interjected. “I don’t appreciate that my daughter seems to have been hearing a laundry list of complaints about things that have nothing to do with her whenever she graces your doorstep. I don’t care that your behaviours led to you having to waste money travelling down to Africa when you could have just stood by your daughter and done the right thing in the first place. You could have supported her! Maybe she wouldn’t have felt compelled to weave tales to keep the peace.” 

Monique let out a sigh. “People would have talked.” 

“So?” Paul demanded. “She’s Lee’s daughter, he could have gotten them to stuff themselves. He’s some fancy hot shot lawyer. God forbid you should give a damn about making Heather feel comfortable. Is her comfort a joke to you? Do you think she needs to learn about how her biological father didn’t have the respect for her mother to even offer her a goodbye?” 

Heather had wrapped her arms around him. She gave him a kiss on the lips. “I love you, Da.” 

“Why is she calling you that?” Lee asked him. “You’re not her father.” 

“Actually, Dad,” John interjected. “He legally is. He’s adopted her. Paul really loves Linda,” he continued. “Jodie and I have never seen her so happy before. It’s been a long while, for me. They’re married, and Paul’s adopted Heather. I reviewed everything, so it’s fine.” John lit a cigarette, and he passed another to Paul, who accepted it willingly. “Lulu likes him, so, why bother making a fuss over it.” 

“Louise has met him?” 

“We have them over for dinner,” Linda said, as she took a puff of Paul’s cigarette. “It’s a really nice time. We were going to invite the two of you over tomorrow, but, I don’t think so. It’s really too bad, because it would have been a nice goodbye.” 

Lee sputted. “Goodbye? Where do you think you’re going?” 

“We’re going home. To London. We’re living there. It’s where Paul works, and I think that the change will be good for Heather, and, of course, the little one on the way.” Linda smiled serenely. “Isn’t that right, Hettie? You’re going to be a big sissy?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, Mummy’s having a baby. We’re calling it Bumblebee!”

“How long will it be until you need your father to fix this mess?” Monique demanded. “Wasn’t once enough?”

“This isn’t a mess,” Linda insisted. “Heather wasn’t one either. She’s my daughter. Just because no one else was happy about her doesn’t mean that I feel the same way.” 

“Now Linda, no one said that we weren’t happy about Heather,” Lee told her. “We just...were confused when you came back here and didn’t follow Mel to Africa.” 

“Why would I have done that?” Linda demanded. “He left me! I was pregnant, Dad! What’s the point of hiding  _ that _ anymore, seeing as Heather’s figured it out?” 

Paul saw the tears beginning to form in Linda’s eyes, and he made an executive decision. “I don’t appreciate what you’re saying to her,” he told Lee. He rose from the couch, Heather still clinging to him. “What gives you the right?” 

“What gives you the right?” Lee scoffed. “I’m her father.” 

“Yeah, well, you know, I’m her husband. I don’t like how you’re speaking to her.” He extended his hand to Linda, and helped her up. “We’ll be going now.” 

“We haven’t even discussed--”

“What’s there to discuss?” He asked. “We came here to discuss your treatment of Heather. I think we’ve settled that.” He turned his attention to John. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“No,” he said. “I’m going with them. Don’t even think about saying something, Dad.” 

“You don’t want to stay for lunch?” Lee asked him. 

“I promised Heather that I’d take her out,” he said. “We’re going to her favourite restaurant. Aren’t we, kiddo?” 

Heather nodded, as John ruffled her hair. “My most favourite. I love you, Uncle John.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Because,” Paul told her. “I have to go back to work. Ringo keeps ringing me up.” 
> 
> Linda glanced over at him. “You didn’t call him back?” 
> 
> He shook his head. “Why would I? I told them. I’m spending time with my girls.” 
> 
> “I told you to call him! What if it’s something important?” 

“Mummy?” Heather asked Linda, and Linda glanced down at her, pleased when she squeezed her hand. She had slipped her sunglasses back on once they’d gotten into the hallway. The last thing she’d wanted anyone to see was that she’d been upset. “Can we take Daddy to Serendipity 3?” 

“Instead of McDonalds?” Linda asked her. Heather nodded, her pigtails bouncing as she did. “Are you sure?” 

“Uh huh. I want to go. If Uncle John is bringing us, we can go, right? We don’t have to worry about money?” 

Linda felt as if her heart was going to break, and she carefully lowered herself down so that she was on Heather’s level. Her centre of gravity was starting to become affected by the baby inside of her, and she took great care to avoid toppling over. “You never have to worry about money,” she told her. “Honey, if I made you feel like you needed to…” 

“You worried about money,” she pointed out. “All the time!” 

“That’s because I’m a grown up,” she told her. “Money is a grown up thing to worry about, okay?” She tugged at Heather’s pigtail. “We can go to Serendipity 3.”

“And, Mummy’s not going to have to worry about money ever again,” Paul added. He too got down on Heather’s level, with somewhat more grace that she’d managed to. Of course, Paul wasn’t carrying their child. “I’ve got more than enough money to go around.”

“What if you run out?” Heather questioned. “Doesn’t that happen?” 

“Well, if I run out, I just remind them who I am,” he quipped. “A quick parting of me signature and whatever I need is mine, free and clear. It’s a perk of being a Beatle.” 

Linda’s eyes widened. “Daddy’s kidding,” she said, rather hastily. “You know that Daddy makes money because of the songs that he writes, and the band that he’s in, don’t you?” 

Heather nodded. “Daddy’s a Beatle,” she reminded her. “But, not here. Here he’s just Daddy.” 

“He’s always going to be your daddy,” Linda assured her. “No matter where we are.” 

“I know, Mummy,” she whispered. “I just mean that he said that he just wanted to be Paul here. When I first met him.”

Linda glanced over at Paul. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you’d said that.” 

“Why are you sorry?” Paul asked her, as he held his arm out for her so she could pull herself up to a stand. Wearing heels had been a mistake. “You’re not wrong, that is how I make our money. I did tell her that I just wanted to be Paul here, but, Lin, it’s okay. I don’t need ye to apologise. Not for that.” He settled his arm around her waist, and his hand came to rest on her abdomen. “I just wanted her to see me as someone who cared about her and her mummy, that’s all. She does. I’m her dad.” He hooked his chin on her shoulder. “I’m this one’s dad, too, y’know.” 

Little Bumblebee treated them to a ripple of movement. “The baby must know who you are,” she told him. “Did you feel that?” 

“It’s brilliant,” Paul told her. “D’you want to feel, kitten?” 

Heather clutched Abbey under her arm, and she reached forward with her free hand. “What do I do?” 

“Why don’t you say hello?” Linda suggested. “Tell the baby who you are.” 

“Hi Bumblebee,” Heather said after a moment. “It’s me, Heather, I’m your big sister.” 

Linda was pleased to feel a nudge from the baby in response to Heather’s greeting. She wanted to encourage Heather to have a relationship with her baby sister or brother, and she was glad that the baby had kicked for her. Heather seemed quite enthralled by the motions against her palm. 

“Bumblebee likes me,” Heather breathed. The excitement was evident in her tone. “She’s tapping my hand.” 

Linda ruffled her hair. “She is, isn’t she?” 

Heather nodded. “Do you think she knows who I am?” 

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t,” she assured her. Linda wanted to get out of her father’s apartment building. “Do you mind waiting until we get to the limo to keep feeling?” 

Heather pouted. “Why?” She demanded. “I want to keep feeling Bumblebee!”

“I know you do,” she said, rather hastily. “I don’t want to stop you from feeling Bumblebee, Hettie, it’s just that I don’t want to have your grandfather come out and find us still here. I’m quite cross with him, and I don’t want to speak to him at the moment.” 

Heather let out a sigh. “I guess that’s okay,” she whispered. “If you promise I can feel Bumblebee later.” 

“Of course you can. Do you want Daddy to carry you?” Heather shook her head. “No? You want to walk on your own?” 

“I want Uncle John to carry me,” she insisted, as she relinquished her hold on Linda’s abdomen. The baby kicked in protest. “Please? Will you, Uncle John?” 

“Of course, Heather,” he said in agreement. “Just down to the limo?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, I could walk, but I don’t want to,” she admitted. 

John scooped Heather up into his arms, and Linda did a quick scan of the hallway, not wanting to leave anything behind. The last thing she wanted to do was have to return to Park Avenue because she’d left something important there. Maybe it was petty of her to want to avoid her father and his new family, but it was what she wanted to do. 

“Will you come visit us in English Muffin?” Heather asked John. Linda’s ears perked at the question. Heather had never so readily asked anyone a question about England before, with the exception of Paul, and Linda swore that she was mainly humouring him. “Uncle John?”

“Of course I’ll come visit you,” he promised. “I’ll bring Aunt Jodie and Lulu, if you want.” 

“I do want that,” she insisted. “Daddy said that they could come, right, Daddy?” 

“Of course they can come,” Paul said, and he nodded in agreement. “They’re family.” 

He had settled his hand on her hip, and his fingers had curled around her side. Linda leaned into his touch. 

“I love you,” she murmured, as they headed in the direction of the lift. “You’re amazing.” 

“You’re the amazing one,” he told her, as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I think you’re brilliant. I don’t mind if your family comes to visit. I think that it’s good for Heather, y’know, and you, and it will be good for the little one in here.” As if in agreement, Bumblebee kicked. “Cor, we’ve an active little one, haven’t we?” 

“The baby’s just got a lot to say,” she told him, as she leaned into his touch. “He or she just wants to be included.” 

Paul kissed her again. “Well, the little sprog’s got nothing to worry about,” he told her. His hand remained on her stomach. “I’ve got no issues with including it.” 

“I’m sorry about what happened in there,” John interjected. “They were out of line.” 

“It’s fine, John,” she lied. It had bothered her, what her father and Monique had said, but she had needed to inform them that their behaviour was unacceptable. Heather was a child, and she did not need to be privy to her father and stepmother’s opinions on the tragicomedy that was Linda’s life. “I knew that they’d be angry with me.” 

“I don’t see why they have any right to be,” he said. “You’re an adult, the same as me. They could get over themselves.” 

She gave him a sad smile. “You’re sweet, but, you know that they won’t.” She focused her attention on Heather. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to McDonalds?” 

Heather shook her head. “I want to go to Serendipity 3,” she insisted. She laid her head on John’s shoulder. “I want a frozen hot chocolate.” 

“Yes, but you need to have something else,” Linda told her. “In addition to your frozen hot chocolate.” 

“Real food?” Heather asked. “Is that what you mean?” 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I’m sure that you can find something that you want to eat--”

“Chicken fingers!”

“You don’t want a burger?” Linda asked her. The chicken fingers were expensive. Well, everything was expensive at Serendipity 3, which was why Linda had told Heather that they could only go to the restaurant on very special occasions. The fact that she only had very special occasions pop up when other people were paying was something she had neglected to acknowledge...and something that she hoped Heather hadn’t realised. “Instead of the chicken fingers?” 

Heather shook her head. “No, I want the chicken fingers,” she insisted. “They’re my favourites.” 

“You’ve gone there enough to have a favourite?” Linda asked her idly. “When have you gone?” 

“Uncle John takes me all the time,” Heather chirped. Linda met her brother’s gaze. “I don’t know why. I don’t think the people who work with Grandpa like when I visit him at work. He says I’m too loud.” 

It was only the arrival of the lift that spared her father Linda returning to his flat and demanding an explanation to the comment that Heather had just made, and she settled for seething silently. Paul had his arm wrapped around her, and she snuggled against his side. 

“Your grandfather said that you were ‘too loud’?” She couldn’t help but ask. “Would you care to explain to me when that happened, John?” 

“He said it all the time!” Heather insisted. “That I couldn’t help not knowing how to ‘behave decorously’. I don’t know what that means, Mummy.” 

“I thought I told you not to listen to Grandpa,” John interjected. “That he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, you did say that,” she agreed. “He said that I ask too many questions and stuff. That I should just sit there quietly and let everyone work. But I wasn’t being loud, Mummy. I was bored. He wouldn’t let me bring any toys!”

Linda raised her hand to her temple. “You’re not in trouble, Heather,” she sighed. “Grandpa should have known better than to expect a child to entertain herself quietly at his law firm without anything to entertain herself with.”

“I told you to leave her with me,” John pointed out. “I don’t know why you didn’t.” 

“Dad said he wanted to watch Heather!” Linda insisted. “I thought that they were bonding, I didn’t think that he was behaving this way.” She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and lit one with a match, and drew in a deep breath, somewhat soothed by the action. “Heather’s only recently told me the things that he’s said.”

“Yeah, to make her into a ‘perfect young lady’,” John drawled, and he rolled his eyes. “I told you, Jodie and I don’t mind. She gets along with Lulu. Don’t you, Het?” 

“Uh huh! We play together.” Heather glanced over at her. “Honest!”

“I believe you, Heather,” she assured her. “You’re not in trouble. John, the next time you think I might not be aware of something, can you please tell me?” 

“Or me,” Paul interjected. “I’m her dad now, I’ve just as much right to know.” 

“I should have told you,” he admitted. “You’re right. I just didn’t want to make you more stressed out than you already were. I mean, you were a single mom, Lin. I figured you didn’t have a choice.”

Linda drew in a deep breath. “Of course I didn’t have a choice. I was alone.”

“You weren’t alone, Mummy,” Heather’s tone was insistent. “You had me...the whole time.” 

“Of course I had you,” she soothed her. She reached over to tickled Heather’s tummy, pleased when she let out a peal of laughter. “I’ve had you since before I found out you were in me.” 

“When I was just a tiny bean in your tummy,” Heather reminded her, as they headed out of the lobby and into the waiting limousine. “I want to sit on your lap!”

“Let your mom get settled in the car, first,” John told her. He shifted her in his arms as Linda settled herself in the back seat. She reached her arms out for Heather. “Sorry, she’s your mum now, isn’t she?” Heather nodded. “That’s what you’re calling her?” 

Heather crawled into the car, and onto her lap. “Uncle John’s asking you a question,” Linda reminded her, as Paul sat down in the middle seat, leaving her brother with the other window seat. “Are you calling me Mummy now?”

“Uh huh,” she told him. “That’s what Daddy calls her. That’s what people in English Muffin call their moms, and we’re going to be living there soon. I don’t want to be different.” 

“It’s okay to be different, you know,” he said. “Your mum is a photographer. That’s different than the rest of us, especially Grandpa and me.” 

“She’s the best photographer,” Heather agreed. Linda felt her ego grow. “Don’t you think so, Da?” 

Paul’s hand had found its way to her thigh. “Yeah, I love your mum’s work. It’s the best.” 

Linda sank back against the back cushion of the limo, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day, and she allowed Paul to explain to the driver that there had been a change of plans, and they were now going to go to Serendipity 3, instead of McDonalds. She had to admit that she was grateful to Heather for deciding against getting a meal at the fast food restaurant. She was sure that she would have been able to tolerate it, but she hadn’t been looking forward to it. Bumblebee was engaging her big sister with a series of kicks, and if John wasn’t present, Linda would have encouraged Paul’s hand to move higher. Just above her knee wasn’t very scintillating, but her brother was sat beside them, so it would have to do. 

“When are you moving to England?” John asked her. 

“Soon,” she told him, as her fingers clasped Paul’s. “We’re thinking of taking a boat out…” 

“Why?” 

“Heather doesn’t want to fly,” she explained. “She’s terrified of planes.” 

“It’s okay,” Heather chirped. “We can go on a plane if you and Bumblebee will like it more.” 

“What?” 

Heather glanced up at her. “I don’t think I’ll be scared if you and Daddy are with me.” 

“Are you sure?” Linda was exhausted. She didn’t want to pressure Heather into doing something that she didn’t want to do. “Heather?” 

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’ll have Abbey. Martha will be there too, won’t she?” 

“Of course she will be,” Paul interjected. “She’ll sit right under your feet. You’ve got me and your mum too, of course.” 

Heather grinned. “I know, Daddy. You’re so silly.” She turned her attention to her tummy. “Isn’t Daddy silly, Bumblebee?” The baby gave her a kick in response. “Bumblebee thinks so too!”

“Does she?” Paul asked her. He shot her a smile. “Is she awake?” 

“Super awake,” she said. “She’s wriggling wiggling.” 

“Is that right, Mummy?” Paul’s hand shifted upwards, and it settled on her abdomen. “Hullo little Bumblebee. Are you having a good time?” Bumblebee fluttered around in response. “Ah, that’s a lass. She must be hungry. I’ve never been to this restaurant, is it like McDonalds?” 

She shook her head. A smile played at her lips. “No, it’s fancier than McDonalds,” she told him. “You’ll enjoy yourself. I promise.” 

“But you liked McDonalds, right, Da?” Heather questioned him. “When we went? You liked it?” 

“Of course I did,” he assured her. “It’s just that I want to experience another restaurant we don’t have in England. You understand, right?”

“Uh huh. They don’t have Serendipity 3 in England either?” 

Paul leaned over and gave Heather a kiss. “I’m afraid not,” he frowned. “It’s really too bad. It sounds like a brilliant place. Frozen hot chocolate and chicken fingers?” 

“The chicken fingers aren’t frozen!” Heather exclaimed, her eyes filled with delight. “I want my own frozen hot chocolate.” 

“Well, okay,” she said. “Since this is your last trip until we come back to visit.” 

“Why?” Heather demanded. “Why can’t we go again?” 

“Because,” Paul told her. “I have to go back to work. Ringo keeps ringing me up.” 

Linda glanced over at him. “You didn’t call him back?” 

He shook his head. “Why would I? I told them. I’m spending time with my girls.” 

“I told you to call him! What if it’s something important?” 

“What could it possibly be?” Paul asked her. “He’s probably cheesed off that people are drumming instead of him. I can handle it when we get back.” 

Linda let out a sigh. “Or, you can handle it now,” she said. “I want to know if we’re walking into something horrible, Paul.” 

“English Muffin won’t be horrible,” Heather interjected. “Daddy promised.” 

“And, part of Daddy  _ keeping _ that promise is calling Uncle Ringo,” she told her, as she ruffled her hair. “I know you don’t want to, Paul, but I would prefer to be kept aware of things that might affect us.”

Paul let out a sigh. “Yeah, okay. I’ll give him a ring when we get back.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Heather scowled at the back of the airline seat as she settled on her dad’s lap, trying her best to get comfortable. She had little desire to be on an airplane. Especially so soon after she’d agreed to go on one. Daddy had been in a terrible mood ever since he had connected with Uncle Ringo, and no one would explain why to her. She’d just been told that they were flying home. 

New York was the only home that Heather could remember, and she rejected leaving it. She hated that Daddy had to go back to English Muffin to work. 

Martha was soundly asleep on Daddy’s feet, and Abbey was in her arms. Heather’s blanket was tucked around her as well, and in spite of Daddy’s foul mood, he was keeping her secure in his arms. Mummy was between her and Daddy and the window, and she looked miserable. 

“Are you okay?” Heather asked her softly. “Mum?” 

“I’m fine,” she said, her lips pursed in a thin line. “Just nervous about being on the plane.” 

Heather frowned. It wasn’t fair that Mummy’s mum had died on a plane. It made Heather sad. She’d never met Grandma Louise, of course, but she’d still been Mummy’s mummy. Heather thought she was so brave, going on a plane. 

“Do you want me to cuddle with you?” Heather asked her. 

Mummy shook her head. “No, Heather, it’s fine,” she said, though Heather could tell she was lying. “You stay with Daddy.” 

“Lin…”

“I’m fine, Paul.” Mummy was lying again! She looked like Heather did when Heather ate cookies after Mummy had said not to. “Don’t worry about me.” 

“Come ead,” Daddy whispered, and Heather watched as he stretched his arm out so that he was able to wrap his arm around Mummy’s shoulders. She was pleased when he pulled her close to them. Heather wanted to cuddle Mummy, and make her feel okay. Failing that, she wanted to feel Bumblebee. Daddy kissed Mummy on her forehead. “Lin, you know I don’t mind this. Cuddling with my girls is one of me favourite things to do.” 

Mummy drew in a deep breath. “But we’re on an airplane.” 

“So?”’

“It’s stupid to be scared.” 

Heather made a noise in protest. Why would Mummy say her fears were stupid? They weren’t. Mummy was allowed to be scared of things. She’d told Heather that, at least. If Heather was allowed to be scared, so was Mummy. 

“It’s not stupid!” She insisted. “Mummy, you said being scared isn’t dumb!”

“Heather--”   
  
“No,” she told her. Her lips formed a pout. “It isn’t! You promised!”

Mummy seemed to be regretting what she had told Heather. No matter. She’d said it, and Heather knew it was true. 

“Being scared isn’t dumb,” Mummy said, through gritted teeth. Heather shifted so that she could reach her Mummy’s Bumblebee tummy. “What is it, sweetie? Do you want to feel?”

She nodded. “Uh huh.” Heather always wanted to feel Bumblebee. “Am I bothering her?” 

“No, the baby’s awake,” she assured her. Heather squeaked with excitement. “You want me to show you where they’re kicking?” 

“Please, Mummy.” 

Mummy and Daddy were dressed so strangely, Heather thought to herself. She’d never seen either of them dressed so casually to go out of the house, but they had both dressed in sweatpants and hoodies. Heather didn’t understand why at all. They’d even dressed her in her favourite blanket sleeper -- the pink one with the feet that kept her toes cozy. 

“Come here, sweetie,” Mummy beckoned, and Heather shifted her position on Daddy’s lap so she could be closer to Mummy. Mummy took her hands in hers and placed them on her tummy. “Your sister wants to say hello, Bumble.” 

Heather giggled as she felt the baby’s motions beneath her palms. “Hihihihihihi Bumblebee. Are you okay? What are you up to?”

“She’s okay,” Mummy told her. “Or he. Whatever they are. They’re definitely okay.” 

“They’re not scared of flying?” Heather asked her, her tone fretful. “I don’t want them to be scared of flying.” 

“Honey, you don’t have to worry about the baby,” Mummy whispered. “They’re not scared of flying, and they probably don’t even realise that we’re on a plane.” 

Heather was hyper aware that they were on a plane. How could the baby not know? That didn’t make any sense to her. Bumblebee kicked at her hands. She giggled.

“Why don’t they realise?” 

Daddy ruffled her hair. “All they know is that they’re inside of your mummy,” he said. “They’re perfectly content to be in their little waterbed, y’know. Mummy keeps them safe.” 

Heather thought that made sense. Of course Bumblebee was safe and comfortable inside of Mummy. Mummy was the best mum ever. She kept Heather and the baby inside of her safe. 

“I just wanted to know because I don’t want Bumblebee to be scared,” she whispered. “I know that you flew to see us all the time, but Bumblebee’s never been on a plane before. I haven’t either.” 

Heather didn’t know what Uncle Ringo had said to Daddy when he’d finally spoken to him on the phone, but poor Daddy seemed rather on edge about whatever the conversation had been about. She had been momentarily soothed by his assurances that he was fine, and that there was nothing to worry about, but then he had told her and Mummy that he was going to agree to wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt on the flight, instead of once of his nice suits. Heather found that to be concerning. Why would Daddy not want to dress nicely? He always had before. Now he and Mummy were wearing the same clothes. Mummy had worn some of Daddy’s clothes because of Bumblebee growing, but never anything so boring. She was bewildered. 

“You don’t have to worry about the plane, darling,” he whispered, his tone soothing to her. “I’ve got ye, and I’ve got your mummy. Nothing’s going to happen.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise,” he assured her. “Why don’t you try to go to sleep?” 

Heather shook her head. “I don’t want to.”   
  


“No?” Daddy asked her. “Why not?” 

“Because, we’re on a plane,” Mummy interjected. “Paul, it’s terrifying.” 

“I know that you’re scared, Lin,” Daddy whispered. Heather watched as he wrapped his arm around Mummy, and she shifted so that she was pressed against his side. Heather decided that she could share her special blanket with Mummy and Bumblebee. “I know.”

“You do?” Mummy’s voice was soft. Heather could tell she was embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just my hormones.” 

Daddy shifted so that he could run his hand along Mummy’s side. While Heather would have normally protested any shifts of the baby’s attention, she decided to let it slide. Mummy was clearly distraught. This devastated her. 

“Maybe your hormones aren’t helping,” Daddy told her, as he kissed her fingers. “I just think that it’s okay to be scared, Lin. I know that you want to be brave, but we understand, right, kitten?” 

Heather nodded. “Do you want to cuddle Abbey?” The stuffed bear was her favourite, but she’d share her with Mummy. Mummy looked like she needed a hug. Maybe Abbey would help. 

“I can’t borrow Abbey,” Mummy protested. “She’s yours, Heather.” 

“I want you to hold her,” she insisted. “She’ll make you feel better, Mum. Why don’t you want her to?” 

Mummy let out a sigh. Heather watched her hands shake. “Fine,” she said after a moment. “I’ll hold Abbey. Are you sure that’s what you want?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh. It’s what I want.” 

  
  



	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul shrugged. “Would it have mattered?” 
> 
> “Yes, it would have mattered!” She exclaimed. “Are you telling me that you would have let him move himself and that woman in there with you? I heard you talking to Heather. You told her that she stalked you!”

Paul didn’t think he had been angrier at someone in his entire life than he was at John at that moment of time, and if he didn’t think that he wouldn’t be dragging him out of his house by the ear, he was truly delusional. He was, however, trying his best to hide his feelings of aggravation from Heather. Heather didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of her father’s anger, especially since she wasn’t the cause. She was just an innocent victim in all of it. 

Even though she had told him that she was willing to fly to England, in lieu of sailing over on the Queen Mary, Paul hadn’t intended to force her to. There had been no need to subject his wife or daughter to a flight on an airplane, especially if it could have been avoided. 

At least, he’d assumed there hadn’t been, until he’d finally called Linda’s answering service and obtained the messages that Ringo had left him, which had started off with a semblance of calm, and had ended with Paul punching one of Linda’s kitchen cabinets, and pretending it was John’s head. How stupid could John possibly be? Why would he have left his perfectly normal wife and shacked up with the strange woman who had spent years stalking Paul? Sometimes Paul wondered if John lacked the capacity to make sense. 

It was either that, or he didn’t care. 

Paul forced himself not to dwell on the misery that was sure to await them when they arrived in London. Heather was sat on his lap, and he was determined to make the flight as painless as possible for his little girl. Going off on a rant about how awful John and Yoko were wasn’t going to help ease Heather’s anxiety on the subject. 

Neither was the fact that Linda was sleeping with Heather’s stuffed bear. Paul knew that Heather had offered the bear to her mother, but he was sure that she still wished she could hug her and cuddle her. Heather was a sweet girl, who loved her mummy. 

He wanted to make sure that she knew that. 

“I love you, you know that, right, kitten?” Paul asked her, and he ran his fingers through her hair. 

“I know,” she whispered. “I love you, too.” 

“Thank you for sharing Abbey with your mum,” Paul told Heather in a soft tone, as she shifted on his lap. Beside them, Linda let out a loud snore. The bear was snuggly in her arms. “Are you sure you’re okay without her?” 

Heather nodded. “Uh huh, Mummy needs her more than I do.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Why are you wearing those clothes?”    
  


“What do you mean?” 

Paul glanced down at the sweatpants and sweatshirt he had on, and he cringed inwardly. He’d known that he looked ridiculous in the outfit. Linda had insisted that he needed to be comfortable on the flight, and he’d gone along with her. She was his wife after all. That didn’t mean that he particularly enjoyed appearing so disheveled. Linda was clad in a similar outfit, but it looked fine on her. She was pregnant, after all, and his wife, so he automatically defaulted to her being gorgeous. 

“You look different,” Heather said. She snuggled closer to him. “And you’re comfy to cuddle with.” 

“That’s a good thing?” 

“I like to cuddle with you,” she whispered. “I want you to be comfy.” 

“I like to cuddle with you, too.” Paul wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry that we had to go back to England sooner than we had planned.” 

She sighed. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does!” Paul insisted. “I know that you’re nervous about being there, and stuff, y’know, and I’m sorry that Ringo kept ringing me up.” 

“Why did he keep calling you, anyways? You never told me.” 

“It’s a long story,” Paul told her. “I don’t want to trouble you with it.” 

Heather squinted at him. “But you were upset,” she said. “You made Uncle John come with us.” She gestured to the row ahead of them, where her uncle could be heard snoring. While Linda had had a hard time settling in on the plane, her brother had knocked back a handful of pills with a strong beverage. The option had been offered to Linda, but, she’d refused. “I know that you and Mummy said that you wanted them to visit us but I didn’t think that you meant when we first came.” 

“I brought your uncle because he’s my lawyer,” he admitted, after a moment. “Just having a spot of trouble, that’s all.”   
  


“Daddy!” Heather gasped. “You’ve been bad?” 

He shook his head. “No, not me. I haven’t been causing the trouble. It’s some friends of mine. How could I have been causing trouble? I’ve been with you and Mummy, and our precious little Bumblebee.” He caressed Linda’s side. “Isn’t Bumblebee brilliant?” 

Paul certainly thought the baby was. Bumblebee was a precious reminder of the fact that he and Linda were forging a new life together, an addition to their instant family of three. The baby was the reason that they’d decided to move their relationship to the level it was. Frankly, it had saved him. Heather had too. His little girl held on to his every word, and she seemed to be quite keen on looking up to him. He knew that he had to do his best to behave properly, especially since Heather was impressionable. She looked up to him. 

“Bumble’s so brilliant,” Heather agreed. “She’s the best baby ever.” She grabbed his hand. “When’s she gonna come?”

“Not for a few months, yet,” Paul told her. He ruffled her hair. “Baby’s got to get bigger, y’know? I know that she seems big enough to you now, but she’s not been in Mummy long enough. Me mum told me that babies are meant to stay in their mums for forty weeks.” He pressed Heather’s hand against the spot on Linda’s side. “You feel that?” 

She grinned. “The baby’s kicking.” 

“Quite right, they are. It’s bloody amazing, isn’t it? Feeling a baby kick?” He kissed her on the top of the head. “I’ve never felt one before this little one started, have you?” 

Much to his surprise, Heather nodded. “I got to feel Lulu kick,” she told him. “Only a couple times, though. I didn’t want to ask. I was too nervous.”

“You don’t have to be nervous when it comes to Bumblebee, y’know? Mum won’t mind.” 

“When are we going to meet your mummy?” Heather asked him, her tone filled with innocence. “Da?”

“What--what are you talking about?” 

Paul had neglected to mention that his mother was dead. Linda knew that she had died, but he hadn’t seen the need to tell Heather about it. 

“You said that she told you about when the baby would be born.” 

Paul sighed. He lit up a cigarette. “I said that my mum had told me how long it took for babies to be born,” he clarified. “She was a midwife, and she helped the people in the councils we lived in deliver babies. Cared for them while they were pregnant. Cared for them more than she’d bloody bothered to care for herself.” He shook his head. “I’d love for you to be able to meet her, Heather, but you can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“You just...you can’t, okay?” 

“Did she run away?” Heather asked him. Her eyes were soft. Not that Paul was keen on looking at them. He was mainly focused on the back of the seat in front of them. “Daddy?” 

“She’s just gone, okay?” Paul whispered. “Go look and see if your uncle finished his drinks.” 

“I want to know what happened to Grandma!”

“Heather, please,” he begged. “I’ll tell you, but I need one of them, if he still has one. I don’t want to disturb your mum.” 

John had been given another beverage before he’d fallen asleep, and dammit, Paul wanted it. What good did the drink do if it was sat on the tray table, untouched? He’d have gotten it himself if Linda hadn’t shifted over, but she had. Her head was nestled against his chest, and she was still soundly asleep. 

“I don’t want you to disturb Mummy either,” Heather said after a moment of silence. “Fine,” she whispered. “I’ll get it for you. But you have to tell me what happened to her.” 

“You don’t think I know that?” Paul asked, his voice hoarse. “I know I do.” 

Heather crawled off his lap and got him the drink, handing it to him before she reclaimed her spot on his lap. “I think that it made him sleepy,” she said. “Why?” 

“Uncle John doesn’t like planes, like Mummy,” he pointed out. “He’s got a prescription.” 

John had ordered a gin and tonic, which was nowhere near Paul’s drink of choice, but he was willing to make the sacrifice for something to take the edge off. Paul preferred whiskey, and by the bottle, especially when it came to having conversations about things that made him upset. 

“A prescription?” Heather echoed. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“He’s got pills he takes, y’know, a doctor prescribes them, and he takes them so he can fly. It’s not a bad thing. Just means that he takes a nap.” He took a sip of the drink. “You want to know about my mum, don’t you?” 

Heather nodded. “You promised you’d tell me.” 

“I know,” he said. “I just don’t like to talk about it, because I’m not allowed to, y’know. I’d get in trouble if I did at home.” 

“But you’re a grownup.”

“I know,” he agreed. “It’s just complicated, y’know? You know how grandparents can be. Remember how Grandpa Lee upset Mummy?” 

Heather nodded. “He and Monique were mean to me,” she recalled. “You said that Grandpa Jim would be nice, though. We rang him up together, remember?”

Paul did. It had been a somewhat awkward conversation between him and his father, but the important thing had been that Heather had been allowed too speak to Jim, and their conversation had gone well. He had even conceded to let her speak to Ruth. 

“Yeah, I remember, it’s just hard, y’know. Mum...she passed away.” 

“Was she flying like Grandma Louise?” Heather asked the question in a loud tone. Paul glanced over at Linda. She let out a snore. “What?” 

“We’re on an airplane, kitten. Maybe now isn’t the time to talk about that?” 

“But that’s what happened to her!” Heather insisted. “Mummy told me. That she was flying to visit Uncle John and the plane, the plane--”   
  


“Heather!” 

“What?” 

“I know that Mummy told you what happened to Grandma Louise, and that’s brilliant,” Paul assured her, though quite hastily. “I just don’t think that people want to hear about all the details about what happened on the plane. It would frighten them.”

Heather scrunched up her nose. “Why?” She asked. “She wasn’t their mum.” 

“I know, Heather, but people aren’t really keen on hearing about how bad flights can go while they’re on one,” he explained. “Even if she wasn’t their mum.” 

“Oh.”

He took another sip of the drink. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “I know you didn’t know why I was telling you not to say anything.” 

“I just want to know what happened to Grandma Mary!”

Paul sighed. “I know you do,” he told her. “She died when I was fourteen. My brother Mike was twelve. She had been feeling poorly for awhile and hadn’t bothered to get herself checked out, and by the time she did they discovered she had breast cancer. She had to check into hospital to get her treatment, and we were told that she was doing well. She had a surgery, and I guess...it got bollocksed up. She died. We had to go to school the next day.” 

“So she can’t meet me and Bumblebee?” 

He wordlessly shook his head. Paul wished more than anything that his mum could meet Heather and little Bumblebee, but it wasn’t to be. No matter how much he wished things could be different. 

“I wish that she could. I’m sure that she’d love you, Heather, because I love you so much.” He ruffled her hair. “I loved you so much that I adopted you, y’know? I made you mine.” 

“I know.” Heather slipped her arms around his middle. Linda curled closer to them. “Mummy’s using you as a pillow!”

“She’s knackered,” he agreed. “I don’t mind.” 

“What does that mean? Knackered?” 

“It means that she’s tired. You know she’s growing the baby. She’s on a plane. It’s a lot all at once, and she needs to rest.” 

“Bumblebee isn’t tired though,” Heather whispered. Her palm was firmly pressed to Linda’s side. “She’s playing with me.” 

“Is she?” Linda’s tummy was pressed against his hip, and he shifted his hold on her so that he could lay his hand on it. Even though there was a part of him that thought the baby needed to go to sleep so its mother could, Linda seemed capable of sleeping through the baby’s movements. She was snoring quite loudly. “Will you show me where she’s kicking? He? Where he’s kicking?” 

Paul thought Bumblebee was a girl. He wanted desperately to give Heather the baby sister she wanted. Calling the baby a boy wouldn’t hurt it, though.

“Uh huh,” Heather agreed. She lifted her hand off Linda’s abdomen and took his in hers. “She’s kicking right here.” She pressed Paul’s palm down against Linda’s skin. “Can you feel her?” 

Bumblebee had wriggled in response to the pressure from his hand, and he grinned at Heather. She seemed quite proud of what she’d achieved. “Yeah, I can feel her. You’re brilliant, y’know?” 

“Me?” She shifted slightly. “I thought the baby was?” 

“You are, too,” he promised her. “I love ye. You’re such an attentive big sister.” 

“You really think so?” Heather’s eyes met his, and he grinned at her. He gave her a nod. “I try so hard to be. I want Bumblebee to love me.” 

“She does love you,” he promised her. “She knows who you are.” 

Heather sighed. “Daddy?” 

“Yeah, kitten?” 

“What are your friends doing?” Heather asked him. She abandoned her hold on her mum’s tummy, and wriggled her way up so she could wrap her arms around his chest. Paul didn’t mind. He was sure that the baby would be okay with it. “Were they bad?”

“Quite bad, darling,” he drawled. He took another sip of the drink. “My friend John seems to think that it’s acceptable to shack up with the woman who stalked me, in my house.”

“What does that mean?” 

“Stalked?” He ran his fingers through Heather’s hair. She nodded. “Well, it means that she followed me around and wanted to get my attention, even though I made it clear that I didn’t want anything to do with her. She wouldn’t back off, y’know?” He sighed. “I told her to bugger off and ask John for something if she needed attention that badly.”

“Why are they staying with us?” 

“They’re not bloody staying with us,” he assured her. “That won’t happen, Het. I won’t allow it.” 

“Is that why Uncle John came with us?” Heather asked him. “Because he’s a lawyer?”

“That’s right,” he told her. He ruffled her hair. “I told them that I didn’t want to see them in my house when we got back there,” he told her. 

“Do you think they’ll listen?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t they?”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“I can’t wait to fall in bed and sleep,” Linda admitted to Paul as they settled in the backseat of the car that they’d hired at the airport to bring them home. John had sat in the front seat beside the driver, leaving the backseat to the three of them. Martha had settled across her feet, while Heather was curled up in Paul’s arms. Their little girl was soundly asleep. “Maybe we should share a bed with Heather tonight.” She reached out and touched her little girl’s hand. “She must be tired.” 

“She didn’t want to sleep on the plane,” he sighed. “I tried to get her to, but--”

“Hey,” she whispered. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you. Or Heather. She was probably too keyed up to sleep.” 

“You weren’t sleeping well?”

“I mean, I slept well enough, I suppose,” she told him. “I’m growing our child, Paul. I need as much rest as I can get.” 

Paul shifted so he could press his palm against her abdomen. His fingers inched under the hem of her sweatshirt, and settled against her bare skin. She felt him kiss her temple. 

“That’s right,” he whispered. “You’re growing our child.” He offered her a grin. “Lin, I’m sorry about all of this. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I got you pregnant, and I don’t regret that,” he answered, his palm still pressed to her abdomen. “I’m just sorry that it means that you have to uproot your entire life, y’know? Having to move to England, having to get married, and then this bullshit with John and Yoko--”   
  


“Stop,” she commanded. “You don’t have to apologise for that, Paul. Not for getting me pregnant, not for my decision to marry you and move to England, and you are certainly not to blame for what John and Yoko have done.” 

“I feel like--”   
  


“No,” she said, her tone firm. “I’m not angry about the pregnancy, and I’m not angry about the fact that you love Heather and me enough to make us your family.” Linda pressed her lips together. “What I am angry about is the fact that John saw fit to just move into your house without giving you the courtesy of a telephone call. What if Ringo hadn’t told you?” 

Paul shrugged. “Would it have mattered?” 

“Yes, it would have mattered!” She exclaimed. “Are you telling me that you would have let him move himself and that woman in there with you? I heard you talking to Heather. You told her that she stalked you!”

“Only for a little while,” he hedged. “She moved on to John, y’know? I was okay with that.” 

From the front John cleared his throat. “Why would you be okay with that?”

“What do you mean?” Paul asked. Heather snored. “Are you asking why I’m okay with her moving on with John, or are you asking why I’d let them stay with me?” 

“I don’t understand why you didn’t go to the police if you were being stalked,” John said, in what Linda recognised as a tone of exceeding patience. “Surely you would have been supported, and the situation handled?” 

“Ring the coppers?” Paul asked. “Why? For what?” 

“The fact that you were being stalked!” 

Linda sighed. “Paul, he has a point.” 

“I don’t understand what he means though,” Paul said. His brow was furrowed in confusion. “It’s just part of life for me, people want things from me, and they camp out in front of the gates to me house, and they’re just there. Why would I ring up the bobbies on them? If I’d been keen on her it wouldn’t have been an issue.” 

“You’ve never thought to see if the police could do anything about them?” Linda asked him, her tone gentle. Paul shook his head. “Why not?” 

“I haven’t needed to, really,” he said. “I’ve never had a family before, y’know, so I didn’t care what they did. They were bothersome, sure, but not all the time. Brian would have gotten cheesed off if I’d rung up the coppers on ‘em, y’know. It’s supposed to be flattering.” 

“It’s harassment,” John interjected. “Trespassing, even, since I’m sure they’re on your private property.” 

“You mean John and Yoko?” 

“No--I mean, yes, John and Yoko,” he said. “But not only them. The gaggle of girls that you claim is constantly underfoot.” 

“I didn’t realise that,” he admitted. “I wanted to have them dealt with once, when they’d shown up in me washroom, but Brian told me that it was the perils of my fame, y’know, and that I mustn’t ring up the coppers. If I’d done so and it’d gotten out, that’d have been bad press. So I just got used to ignoring them. I didn’t want to get into it if it would have meant that we’d have lost everything.” He sighed. “It just became a habit, I suppose, and it’s my own fault, really. I live so close to the studio that it’s natural they’d seek me out.” Linda watched him light up a smoke. “I’ve got a family now, though, so I don’t care what upsets the fans. Brian’s dead, anyways. What does it matter what he wanted? No one cares about it when I try to get them to listen.” 

“That’s right,” Linda agreed. She squeezed his hand. “You’ve got a family now, and I know that you want to keep us safe. Do you even have to live so close to the studio? It made sense when it was just you, but don’t you want to get a house that we picked out together?” 

“Together?” Paul sounded hopeful. “Like, you and me? Heather? Together as a family?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I think that would be really nice.” 

“I’ve a farm in Scotland that I’m going to fix up,” he told her. “Well, I was going to do it myself, but I reckon I could find people to put it to rights, so we could stay there. I was telling Heather about it, and she wants to go. But it’s not safe for her right now, or you. There’s no hot water, and there’s rats in the walls.” He passed her the cigarette. “I was thinking, though. I’d buy you a horse.” 

“A horse?” Linda echoed. “You’d buy me one?” 

“Yeah, our Heather told me that you’d been keen on getting one, but that you couldn’t,” he said. She watched him stroke Heather’s back. “I reckon that I can swing that, for you, y’know, you’re my lady.” A light blush coloured Paul’s cheeks. “And, yeah, I’d be keen on looking at a house with you. I’d like that a lot.” 

“But that still doesn’t change the fact that this is a problem that needs to be dealt with,” John insisted. “I mean, fine, I’m not suggesting that the fans  _ need  _ to be dealt with, but I don’t want your supposed friend living in your house with the woman who stalked you. How long did she stalk you for?” 

Paul shrugged. “I dunno, really. Over a year, I reckon. Almost two.” 

“Paul!” Linda chastised. “Almost two years?! You let that woman stalk you for almost two years without doing anything?” 

“What was there to do? Brian told me to leave it be, that filing a report would just make things worse.”

“Brian is dead,” Linda reminded him, and she reminded herself that she needed to remain calm for the baby’s sake, and for the sake of not scaring everyone in the car. “You don’t have to listen to him anymore, you can do what you want. Even if that’s scary, honey.” She squeezed his hand. “You came out to New York so that we could become a family together, right? That had to be pretty terrifying.” 

Paul licked his lips. “Yeah, I mean, I was nervous. Heather had liked me before, when I was spending the weekends with you, and she called me her uncle, but I wasn’t sure if she’d like me being her dad. It’s been the two of you for her whole life, y’know? I didn’t know if she’d want a third member of her family.” The baby kicked in response. “Oh, come off it. I didn’t forget about you, Bumblebee. I knew she’d like ye.” 

“I was nervous, too,” she admitted. “I mean, I didn’t know how you’d feel about the fact that there was a baby on the way. I didn’t want to scare you off. I know that you haven’t really been ready to settle down.” 

“I have been, though,” he whispered. “I’m tired of bringing home a different woman every night. We’re married, and we’re having a baby together. That makes me happy.” He leaned in, and gave her a kiss. “I reckon that your brother can do what he wants,” he added. “He can sue em if he wants to. I don’t want to deal with them if it’s really that big a deal.” 

Linda met John’s gaze. “Okay, honey, if that’s what you want,” she agreed. “I think that that would be a good idea.” She shifted closer to him. “The baby’s quite active,” she mused. “They must know that we’re finally home.”

“Home?” He echoed. His tone was hued with pleasure. “Is that so, Lin? You really think that you’d consider England your home?” 

“Our home,” she corrected. “Yeah. I would.” 

  
  



	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What if they’re in there?” She asked him. There was an edge to her tone. “I don’t want Heather sleeping alone tonight, Paul. Not if there’s a chance that they might be there.” 
> 
> “I told them that they had to leave--”
> 
> “How do you know if they listened?”

Linda had been to Paul’s house previously, but it had never appeared to be so foreboding to her as it did right then. Maybe it was the fact that she’d only briefly been in the property -- just twice before -- or maybe it was because she dreaded what lurked within, but she felt a distinct sense of unease. Paul, clearly sensing her distress, had reached out for her hand. 

“Hey,” he whispered, his tone low. His breath tickled hot against her skin. “What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing,” she assured him. “I’m fine.” 

Linda knew that Paul wasn’t likely to believe her. He was going to worry about her and the baby, even when neither of them were in a state of distress, and she didn’t want him to. Bumblebee was perfectly fine. The baby was swimming about inside of her, oblivious to the fact that she was on edge. Heather was still soundly asleep. Her thumb was in her mouth, and she was using Paul as a pillow. She knew that he didn’t mind. 

“Lin…” 

“What if they’re in there?” She asked him. There was an edge to her tone. “I don’t want Heather sleeping alone tonight, Paul. Not if there’s a chance that they might be there.” 

“I told them that they had to leave--”

“How do you know if they listened?” Linda was doubtful that they had. “I know what you told them to do, but how do you know? Please, Paul, I would feel better if she slept in bed with us. In your bedroom.” 

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You mean in our bedroom,” he reminded her, an expression that could best be described as childlike joy written on his face. “I don’t mind if Heather spends the night with us,” he added. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want,” she insisted. “I know that this is your house, and I believe that you told them that they had to leave, but I don’t trust them. If they really cared about what you wanted they wouldn’t be here at all.” 

She pressed her hand to her abdomen. Her wedding ring glinted in the dark. “Please, Paul. I’m begging you--”

“Do you want to go get a hotel room?” He offered. 

She shook her head. “That would be stupid,” she told him. “We don’t have to do that. I’m sure that I’m just imagining things.” 

Linda felt as if they were being watched, which was absolutely ridiculous. At least, she would have thought so had Martha not appeared to be equally on edge. The sheepdog had woken suddenly, and was eyeing the house with an awfully intent gaze. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure,” she whispered. “I don’t--this is your house. If they are here, that’s what they want. I don’t want them here. They’d be grateful if we drove off.” 

Paul squeezed her knee. “We can do whatever you want,” he offered. “Why don’t we just spend the night here, and tomorrow we can go to my dad’s.” 

“Is there a reason that you didn’t think to have us go to your father’s in the first place?” John asked, from his position in the front seat of the car. “Where does he even live?” 

“Liverpool,” Paul told him. “The driver wouldn’t want to take us there. He’s a local bloke, y’know. It’s quite aways away.” 

“You’d bring us to your dad’s?” Linda asked him. “Even though your stepmother will be there?” 

He shrugged. “Look, I’m not keen on it, y’know, but I’d rather be there than here. Even though I’m sure they’ve gone, the fact that they’ve been able to get into the place doesn’t exactly thrill me.” Paul pulled a face. “We ought to just bring in the necessities and leave the lot of it in the boot of me car. It’s in the garage.”

The lack of fans hanging around the gate that lead to Paul’s house did little to comfort Linda. While most people would be glad to know that their husband was no longer of extreme interest to a group of teenagers, Linda found this development to be both sudden and suspicious. 

“I thought they were here all hours of the night?” She whispered. 

“They normally are,” he said. “Maybe the others are at the studio?” 

“Don’t you think that it’s weird?” Linda certainly did. “There isn’t a soul here.” 

Linda’s trepidation only grew once the cab had slowed to a stop, and it became clear that the driver expected them to exit. She was fortunate that she had packed a travel bag that had some essentials in it for her and Heather, so that she didn’t have to go trawling through her proper luggage in the dark, while her skin crawled. Paul had asked for the majority of their things to be shipped to his father’s house. He’d claimed that that was due to the fans stealing his packages. Linda wasn’t sure if that was the reason, but she was definitely grateful. 

Heather was soundly asleep. She was grateful for that, too. Abbey was clutched in her arms. 

“Come on, Lin,” he whispered. “It’s just for one night. We’ll leave in the morning. I just don’t want to leave my cats here, y’know? The rest of it, I’d be fine with, but I can’t subject them to that.” 

“Heather will sleep with us?” 

Paul nodded. “Of course she will.” 

“I think…” She trailed off. “I think that I might take a sedative.” 

Linda was sure that her hormones were causing her to overreact, and she didn’t want to traumatise Heather by having a panic attack over what she was sure was nothing. She was just getting the distinct sense that they weren’t alone. Maybe it was Paul’s cats, though. They likely had free roam of the property. 

“Why don’t we split a spliff?” Paul’s tone was gentle, but she could hear the concern behind it. “I mean, if you need to, have one. But I think that we can sort you without it.”

Linda drew in a deep breath. She realised that having a joint wouldn’t be that bad. At the very least it would take the edge off. She didn’t want to sedate little Bumble. 

“Okay,” she whispered. She leaned in to give him a kiss. Their lips brushed sweetly together, and she felt his hand coast down her back, settling on her rear. Paul squeezed her gently. “Mmm, Papa, not tonight.”

“I know,” Paul admitted, much to her shock. He shifted his hand so that he could caress her tummy. “I’m bloody well knackered. I can’t imagine how you feel, carting the little one around with ye all day long.” The baby gave him a kick. “Ah, hullo, darling. Have ye had a good day? Giving your mum a case of the flutters?”

Despite the unease she felt, Linda offered him a slight smile in response to his comment about the baby. Bumblebee was fluttering about inside of her, the ripples of motion easily felt. It was nice to have a partner who cared about her and their unborn child. Linda had never had that before. Even when Mel had been around -- which hadn’t been for very long -- he hadn’t paid much attention to her, or to the baby that they were expecting. She wasn’t used to anyone paying attention to her or her pregnancy. It was still weird. Linda knew that Paul loved her, of course. She knew that he loved Heather, too. It was natural that he’d want to be affectionate to their unborn child. 

“They’re buzzing around in there,” she agreed. “Aren’t you a doting dad?” 

Paul blushed. “Yeah? You think so?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I do,” she whispered. She reached her hand up and ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you, Mama.” Paul ran his hand down her side. “What’d’ye say we go in? Get it over with, y’know? I’ll carry ye bag.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” she insisted. “I can.” 

“I know I don’t have to,” he said. “I want to.” 

“It’s not too much for you?” She fretted. “With Heather?” 

He shot her an easy grin. “Don’t worry. I’ve it sorted.” 

“You promise, we can leave tomorrow?” Linda asked him. “I mean, if they’re not there, it’s fine. We can stay. But what if they are?” 

“I told you,” Paul protested. “John said they’d skive off.” 

Linda’s brother cleared his throat. “Do you really believe him?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” 

“He’s dating the woman who stalked you!” John exclaimed. 

“John!” Linda nodded pointedly at Heather. “She’s soundly asleep! Don’t wake her up.” 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, lowering his tone. “I just don’t think that I’d trust him. If I was Paul.” 

“Why wouldn’t you?” Paul asked, his tone filled with confusion. Linda bit back a sigh. “I don’t get it. I told him that he had to leave.” 

“But you didn’t tell him to move in in the first place!” John reminded him, thankfully in a quieter tone. Heather snuffled softly, her face smooshed against Paul’s chest. “They broke into your house, Paul. It wasn’t like they needed a place to stay and asked you.” 

“Of course they didn’t ask me,” he said. “Why would they have done? George kicked them out of the house.” 

“That’s my point,” John said. “Did you ask George why he did that?” 

Paul shrugged. “No, I didn’t see the need to ring him up. Ringo said that they’d made Pattie angry. I didn’t really want to know what they’d done, anyways. George would have been cheesed off had I spoken to her.” He rolled his eyes. “Who knows if they were annoying her, anyways? They might have just been bothering him.” 

“Why...your friend doesn’t let you speak to his wife?”

“We’re allowed to speak to each other,” Paul elaborated. “He just doesn’t like people paying Pattie attention. Anyways, he’s annoying me lately. He dragged everyone to bloody India and caused all this mess. John was never hanging round Yoko before we all had to spend weeks in huts bloody meditating day in and day out.” He pursed his lips. “Absolutely bloody awful. Ringo and I went as a bloody lark, but George thinks that it’s a wonderful path in life to take.” 

He rolled his eyes. “John went off and got himself addicted to meditation.” 

“So he decided to start dating your stalker?” 

Paul shook his head. “No, she started to stalk him, I don’t know why he started to date her. If you ask me he should have just stayed with his wife. They’ve got a child together. It was irresponsible of John to abandon his marriage to shack up with someone else. He made a commitment. He was normal before we went to India..actually...even until right before I went to LA with you.” 

“What are you talking about?” Linda asked, her tone wary. 

“John called a meeting and told everyone that he thought he was Jesus,” Paul told her. “I didn’t know whether he was larking about at first, but he seemed very serious. He insisted that he was the Messiah! I thought maybe he was having a bad trip, y’know? He did a lot of acid.” 

Linda made the executive decision to deal with the fact that John had apparently had a break with reality that had been ignored later, after she’d managed to have some much needed sleep. She really was quite tired. The baby took a lot out of her, and she was still on edge from the fact that they’d had to fly to England. She really disliked planes. At that moment, her concern was falling into bed with her husband and managing to get a solid night’s sleep. John and his problems would be there in the morning. 

“Come on,” she whispered, and she wrapped her arm around his middle. “Let’s go inside, okay? We can talk about this in the morning.” She yawned. “I’m tired.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Paul asked her, his voice filled with worry. “Is everything okay?” 

She nodded. “We’re fine, honey, I promise,” she assured him. “It’s just been a long day, y’know, and our Bumblebee is doing some growing. It just tires me out, that’s all.” 

She felt him kiss her hair. “You sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she promised. “I would tell you, if something was wrong.” 

“I know that you would.” 

Linda squeezed his hand. “When we get inside, and into bed, you need to talk to our child,” she told him. “Not Heather,” she added. Heather was still soundly asleep. “Bumblebee. I don’t think that she wants me to sleep tonight.” 

“That’s not very well behaved,” he chided. “I’ll see that she’s sorted.” 

The house loomed in front of them, and Linda felt Paul give her hand another squeeze. She reminded herself that there was nothing to be scared of -- it was only a house, after all -- and she wasn’t alone. She had Paul, and she knew that he would protect her. Her brother was there, too. John looked rather perturbed by the entire situation. It was hard for him to understand that there were vast differences between how they’d been raised and how Paul had been raised, and she knew that there was really a sort of knowledge gap between the two men. That didn’t matter to Linda. She’d tried being with a learned man, the sort that her parents would have approved of, and he’d left her high and dry, with a child on the way. While Linda didn’t regret Heather, she regretted her choice in biological father. 

What if Heather looked like Jojo when she grew up? Linda wouldn’t care -- she loved Heather, regardless of who she resembled -- but she had a feeling that Heather would be devastated. Heather thought that she was unwanted, and she knew that her biological father had abandoned them. She was rather sensitive. The last thing that Linda wanted was for her to remind herself of the man who had been meant to be her father. It seemed quite cruel. 

“What’s wrong?” Paul asked her. His tone was concerned. “Is it the baby?” 

“No, it’s not the baby,” she whispered. “It’s Heather.” 

Heather let out a loud snore. She buried her face against Paul’s sweatshirt. “What about Hettie?” Paul asked her. “She’s fine, luv, she’s just having a kip, y’know? You want me to wake her up?” 

She shook her head. “No, it’s stupid.” 

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not stupid,” he assured her. “You can tell me, baby. What is it?” 

“Will you still want to be her dad if she looks like him?” 

Linda wouldn’t have posed the question had John not insisted on going in ahead of them, in order to ensure that there was no sign of John or Yoko. She didn’t want her brother to know that she had these feelings at all. It was none of his concern. 

Still, she’d wanted to know. No, she needed to know. “Will you?” 

“Lin, I don’t care what she looks like,” he whispered. “She’s our daughter, not his. I don’t even know what he looks like, so I’d just assume she looked like one of your relatives. Even if I did know, I wouldn’t care. It really doesn’t matter to me, cos she’s mine. Full stop. He didn’t want either of you. I do, I want you both, more than anything. No matter who she looks like.” 

“I just...I wanted to make sure,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just want to make sure that Hettie will be okay. I don’t want her to look like him. She doesn’t deserve to be punished like that.” 

Paul squeezed her shoulder. “Are you really worried about that?” 

“I don’t know! I never thought about it before.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I just want Heather to be happy,” she told him. Tears were threatening to spill out of her eyes. “What if the kids wonder why she doesn’t look like them? If she doesn’t?” 

“First off, she’s part you,” he reminded her, as he looped his arm around her. “She’s quite brilliant, our Heather.” He kissed her temple. “So I reckon they’ll look similar enough. I thought that we’d tell them, though. That I adopted her.” 

“You’d want to tell them?” 

“It’s all the same to me, y’know, she’s mine regardless of her blood, but I don’t see why we shouldn’t tell them. She’s their sister, and I don’t want her being adopted to be some dirty secret, y’know? I’m proud of her. She’s ours. I don’t want to make her feel like she’s not by pretending it doesn’t matter.” 

There was a part of Linda who wanted to simply pretend that Paul was Heather’s biological father, and if she was younger, she would have seriously tried to persuade him that she wanted him to go along with it. Heather was already filled with self-loathing because she had been abandoned by her biological father, and Linda honestly didn’t know if being honest about her being adopted by Paul would make things worse. Obviously, Heather knew that she wasn’t Paul’s biological daughter, but there was a part of Linda who wished fervently that other people didn’t need to know. 

“I don’t want her to hate herself because she’s adopted,” Linda whispered. Tears threatened to form in her eyes, and she frantically blinked them away. She wasn’t going to cry over something that was entirely her fault in the first place. “I don’t want her siblings to treat her differently.” 

“Why would you think that would happen?” Paul asked her. He sounded confused. “I don’t think they’d treat her differently cause she’s my adoptive daughter. She’s their sister, Lin. She’ll always be their sister, even though we’ll never have anything in common, because she’s yours.” 

“You!” She exclaimed. “You treat your sister differently!”

“That’s not because she’s adopted,” Paul protested. “That’s because my dad expects me to just up and replace my mother with his little harlot!”

“How do you think Heather will feel! She won’t understand that you’re doing that because you think it will punish your father, or something equally ridiculous,” she snapped. “She’ll think that that’s how people behave towards their adoptive siblings, Paul. She’s too young to understand nuance like that, and, for that matter, so is your sister.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean that it’s rude, Paul, the things that you say about Ruth and the way that you act around her! I know that you don’t like your stepmother, but you’re an adult! Surely you can figure out a way to differentiate your feelings?”

Linda hadn’t meant to shout at Paul, but she’d been unable to help it. 

“I…”   
  


“I’m sorry,” she insisted. “I don’t know why I yelled at you. I’m just hormonal.” 

Paul blinked. “No, you’re not just hormonal,” he told her. “I mean, I dunno, I don’t think that you’re being hormonal at all.” He shifted Heather to his other side. She snored contently. “I don’t get why I can’t just treat Heather one way and Ruth another, but I don’t want to screw Heather up because of it.”

“It’s not just Heather you have to consider,” she informed him. “What about your sister? She didn’t ask for her mother to marry your father after four dates, and I’m willing to bet that she certainly didn’t ask for him to adopt her. They barely knew each other. And then she’s stuck in this world that she doesn’t understand, and she has two older brother, and she doesn’t understand why they treat her terrible--”

“Mike doesn’t,” he muttered. “Treat her terrible.” 

“That’s even worse!” Linda exclaimed. “She probably thinks that she’s done something awful to offend you. Don’t you remember being a kid?”

“I didn’t think that it mattered,” he muttered. “All Angie cares about is my money.” 

“That might be true,” she admitted. “I just don’t think that Ruth shares her opinions.”

He sighed. “I never really thought about it,” he admitted. “I guess if it upset me that Dad got remarried after only four dates, and I’m an adult, it probably really confused Ruth. She was barely aged four.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I just got angry about it and never really considered how she might have felt.” 

“Well, now that you know that, how are you going to fix it?” 

  
  



	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She likes that bear, doesn’t she?” He asked her, having tugged the blankets up over their daughter.
> 
> Linda nodded. “It’s her favourite,” she told him. “You bought it for her, and that makes it special to her.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about it,” Paul said after a moment. It was true that he really didn’t care for his stepmother, but he supposed that Linda was right and it was unfair to Ruth that he held those thoughts. Maybe. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t think it was worth arguing with Linda over, if she felt so strongly about it. “I’ll apologise when we go to Dad’s tomorrow, I reckon.” 

It sounded good enough to him. He’d mutter a half-hearted apology to the girl, and introduce her to her new playmate. When Heather was settled enough to tolerate Ruth, he’d make his escape with Linda to break in the mattress in the room that was supposedly his. Jane had always refused to have sex with him in what she’d deemed his father’s home. Never mind that it had been Paul’s house from the start, and his stepmother and Ruth’s grandmother were squatters. She’d refused to budge on the subject. 

“You should play with Heather and Ruth,” Linda told him. Heather shifted in his arms. “I don’t want to hear you complaining,” she added. “I know that you probably don’t want to--”   
  


“I don’t mind playing with Heather,” he pointed out. “She’s our girl.” 

“It would be nice if you played with them,” she sighed. “You don’t have to do it the whole time, but you can’t just plop Heather down beside her and wipe your hands of it.” 

“Because Heather will be scared?” 

“Possibly,” she allowed, as she ducked her head to kiss the top of Heather’s. “That wasn’t what I meant, though. I just meant that it might be nice if you were with me when I got to know her.” 

“You want to, uh, get to know Ruth?” The thought had honestly never occurred to him. “Why do you want to get to know her?” 

Linda openly rolled her eyes. “Are you serious, Paul? She’s your baby sister. Why wouldn’t I want to get to know her?” 

Paul bit back the retort that threatened to leave his lips. He didn’t consider Ruth to be his sister at all, but he didn’t rank the chances of him winning that battle were particularly high. He didn’t want to make Linda upset over something so utterly stupid, anyways. If she wanted to call him Ruth’s brother, well, so be it. Ruth already did, despite his best attempts to the contrary.

“She’d probably like that,” he admitted, as they entered the house, Martha hot on their heels. Even though John had been told to leave the property, Paul had to admit that he was dubious that he’d had done as he was told. He’d like to believe that John had a degree of sense that led him to make good choices, but given that he’d shacked up with Paul’s stalker, maybe he didn’t. “I mean, yeah, you should do that. I’ll be with you, okay? The whole time.” 

“You will be?” Linda asked him. “You don’t have to, Paul, I know that you’re busy--”   
  


He lowered his head so that he could nuzzle the side of her neck. “I’ve not got anything going on, really.” 

“What about your record?” 

Paul scowled. He had forgotten entirely about the bloody record. “What does it matter?” 

“What do you mean, why does it matter?” 

“I mean that you’re more important than a bloody LP,” he sighed. He ran his hand that wasn’t holding Heather through his hair. “I’ll ring up George Martin and make sure it’s all sorted.” 

“Do you think that it is?” 

“Does it matter?” Paul truly didn’t care about the state of the record. “Sod the lot of em, that’s how I feel about it. The only one I care about is Rich, and I’ll sort him out with a record if that’s going to be a problem.” 

Paul was quite angry at George. “I don’t understand where George got off telling them to move in here,” he murmured, doing his best to whisper. “Had he completely taken leave of his senses? I’m sure they were a bother to Pattie, but look at what they did to my house!”

Fortunately for everyone’s hearing, and Heather’s current state of slumber, the dim light cast the damage to his home in a more flattering shade than he was certain the morning light would. For the moment, he was electing to leave it. 

“There’s been no sign of them,” John interrupted. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll be heading to bed.” 

“There’s a guest room on the first floor,” he informed him. He waggled his brows at Linda. “Ours is on the second.” 

“I’m really tired, Paul,” she whispered. “I don’t think I’m up for anything, and I don’t know that we should do anything in the same room as Hettie, even if she’s asleep.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, surprising himself. “I’m always up for a shag, but you don’t have to, not if you don’t feel up to it.” He reached out and caressed her abdomen. “Has the sprog been giving ye trouble?” 

“She didn’t like that I was sleeping,” she told him, as they headed up the stairs that led to his bedroom. Their bedroom, now, Paul supposed. “Or he, I suppose. It could be a boy.” 

“I thought maybe, if it was a boy, we could name him James, y’know, after me? I mean, if you’d like to,” he added, rather hastily. “We could always name him after one of your relatives.” 

A smile bloomed on Linda’s lips. “Imagine if we named the baby John,” she snickered, her hand joining his. “Everyone would think about how nice it was that you and John are close. They’d never believe it was for my brother.” 

“Christ, we’d ought to just name the poor sprog Lennon, then,” he teased. Paul wasn’t planning on naming a child after John, but the thought of a little Lennon McCartney was good for a laugh. “Little Lennon McCartney.” 

Keeping Heather secure in his arms, he lowered himself so that he was eye level with the bump. It wasn’t really a bump yet, at least, he hoped it’d get bigger, but their Bumblebee was definitely growing. Their presence inside of their mum was blatant. 

“What do you reckon, Bumbles?” He cooed, as he pressed an ear to her abdomen. “What do you think of the name Daddy’s come up with? Lennon McCartney? Do you like it?” 

The baby had kicked before -- Paul had felt them loads of times -- but he’d certainly never felt such a pointed response. He glanced up at Linda, whose expression was one of surprise. “Did that hurt you?” He fretted. He didn’t want the baby to be hurting their mum. “Bumblebee! Don’t be cheeky! You don’t have to kick Mum so hard.” 

“It’s fine, Paul, the baby didn’t hurt me,” she insisted, as he lurched to his feet. “I was just surprised that they kicked so hard. I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“I don’t think that they liked the name. They seemed quite insistent on that.” 

She offered him a slight smile. “I don’t blame them,” she admitted. “I don’t understand why you even want to go to the meeting tomorrow.” She pressed her lips together in what was clearly disapproval. “Surely whatever it is…” 

“I want to go, Lin,” he insisted. “I have to go. It’s my job, and I can’t keep skiving off on it, especially if they know that I’m here, at home! They’d be liable to send someone round to come get me, and I don’t want that. I’d just as soon face whatever nightmare they’ve caused head on, and I’ve got to deal with this entire...debacle.” He gestured at the room around them. “I mean, had John asked, I would have probably let them stay here! It’s the fact that he didn’t that makes me angry.” He shook his head. “I’ve no right to be angry, though.” He opened the door to his bedroom, pleased that it was untouched. Thisbe, who had been lurking in the hallway, sauntered past him, and he swore that she was giving him a look of utter disapproval. “Here’s our room,” he added. “I’ve changed things up a bit since you last came by.” 

Linda had followed him into the bedroom. “You got a bigger bed?” 

He nodded. “Well, I reckoned that Heather wouldn’t really be all that keen on not sharing a bed with you, if you ever came by with her, so I figured I’d sort it out. A fresh start, and all that, y’know?”

“That was really sweet of you,” she whispered, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. “Why don’t you tuck her in?” 

Heather hadn’t stirred in the entire time they’d been in the house, and she showed no signs of waking when he carefully tugged down the covers, and placed her on the centre of the bed. He figured that was the best place for her. She could have a parent on either side of her. He reckoned she’d like that. She clung to Abbey tightly. 

“She likes that bear, doesn’t she?” He asked her, having tugged the blankets up over their daughter.

Linda nodded. “It’s her favourite,” she told him. “You bought it for her, and that makes it special to her.” She stifled a yawn. “You know what might be nice?” 

“What?” He peeled off the shirt that he’d worn on the flight and tossed it into the hamper. “No, I don’t know,” he admitted. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I was thinking that I could go for a bath,” she admitted, and he watched her lift her top over her head. The action revealed that Linda hadn’t been bothered with either an undershirt or a bra. Not that he minded. He was only sad that he hadn’t thought to cop a feel over the course of the flight. Since he’d gotten her pregnant, it seemed that she grew softer and softer on a daily basis. 

He loved seeing the changes in her body. Her breasts were starting to get bigger, and, without a top on, the swell that contained their child within was truly evident. That caught his eye more than her breasts. For the moment, anyways. “I’m sore from the flight, and I thought maybe you’d want to join me?” She gazed at him hopefully. “I know that it’s not sex,” she added.

“I don’t care that it’s not sex,” he insisted. Sex was great, but he cared about Linda more. She was his wife. His pregnant wife. “I mean, sex with you is brilliant, Lin, and I love it, but you said that you were tired. I couldn’t take advantage of ye like that. I’d love to take a bath with you.” 

He shucked off his trousers -- he wondered if he could even consider sweatpants to be trousers -- and they joined his shirt in the hamper. His boxer shorts soon followed, along with his socks. He was glad that Heather was still asleep. There was no need for her to wake up and catch a good glimpse of his willy. He didn’t have the energy to explain why he was starkers, and why her mum was halfway to there as well. 

Of course, Heather understood the concept of a bath, and he knew that, but he had yet to take a bath with her over the course of their time together. Heather had to be properly supervised, of course, despite being five, and he’d accompanied her and Linda into the loo when the situation called for it, but he wasn’t sure if bathing with Heather was proper. It wasn’t a subject that he wanted to broach with either Linda or Heather while neither he nor Linda were fully awake. 

Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted some time alone with his wife. 

“Care for a glass of wine?” Paul offered. He didn’t want to ply her with liquor, but being in London had left her on edge. He was nervous about being back home, too. “Or we can split a spliff?” 

“I don’t want any wine,” she demurred, as she stripped out of the rest of her clothes, exposing her figure for all to see. Paul, of course, was her sole audience. “I’m too tired for anything,” she added, and shot him a wistful smile. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not very fun.” 

“No, you don’t have to apologise,” he insisted, as he crossed the room to where she stood. He slipped his arms around her middle, and nuzzled her hair. “You say all the time that I’m allowed to be tired, and have feelings, and that it’s not daft to have them, or admit them.”

“I do say that,” she murmured, as she stifled a yawn. “I just...I guess I’m just not used to being cared for.” 

“Well, rubbish to that. I’m going to take care of you now, okay? You don’t have to ever feel unloved or uncared for, ever again.” 

“You don’t have to promise that--”

“Yeah, Lin, I do.” Paul had never meant anything more in his life than he did right then. “When I married you, I made a commitment, and that commitment is important to me. I know that I’ve never been a dad before, or been a husband, but I want to do the best that I can to care for you, and to care for Heather, and to care for our child who’s on the way.” He shifted her so that he was able to look her in the eyes, almost overwhelmed at the slight pressure that presented itself when she pressed her abdomen into his, but he did his best to maintain his composure. He couldn’t be overcome with amazement every time he felt their baby. It would mean he’d never get anything done. “I might not be the best at it, but, I’m damn sure going to try.” He kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Lin. You.” 

“No one’s ever said anything so sweet to me before,” she whispered. He watched her lick her lips. “I love you too, you know?” 

  
  



End file.
